


Two Hearts In Bloom

by GoldenTruth813



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Alternate Universe - College/University, Feelings, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Galra Keith (Voltron), Getting Together, In N Out, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Roommates, Target, Valentine's Day, shiro is a good boy, they both want to be each other's sugar daddy on a broke college student budget
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 15:50:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22718461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenTruth813/pseuds/GoldenTruth813
Summary: Keith is a half-Galra, half-Terran born and raised on Ender’s Colony—a space station for Galra displaced after the war. Despite never quite feeling like he belonged, it’s also a place he never thought he’d leave. That is until he gets the chance to participate in an intergalactic exchange program with Garrison University on Earth.When he gets to Earth, no textbooks on cultural norms could have prepared him for the strangeness of Terrans. Everything from their food to their customs leaves him with more questions than answers, but the one thing that grounds him even when he still feels lost in space is his new roommate, Shiro.As the Terran holiday of Valentine's Day approaches, Keith is determined to show Shiro how special he is, but why do their courting rituals have to be so confusing?
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 97
Kudos: 417
Collections: Sheithlentines 2020





	Two Hearts In Bloom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kkeithkatt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kkeithkatt/gifts).



> This is my Sheithlentines gift for kkeithkatt who wanted galra keith and some Valentine's shenanigans. I ended up going with half galra keith raised in space and some good old fashioned AND THEY WERE ROOMATES with a fun mix of alien cultural differences. This was kind of hard to tag but it's basically a canon inpsired sci-fi meets college au and I had so much fun writing this and creating this universe.
> 
> Also all the love the star, hillary and rachel for listening to me on end as i worked on this fic and whiskyandwildflowers for being the world's fastest and best beta ever. You're incredible.

Despite the early hour, the Nyx Terminal was already a flurry of activity. Keith’s hopes of arriving early to slip through security without preamble was a bust since it looked like everyone else had the same idea.

Everywhere Keith looked, stern faced officials were double-checking paperwork, security personnel were examining personal belongings, and the families of those being left behind stood behind the hologram barrier with unmistakable excitement, and sadness, in their eyes—a look Keith knew all too well. He still remembered the last time he’d been here. He’d been ten years old and watching his mom disembark on what should have been a short and routine diplomatic mission to Earth. He’d been so nervous about her leaving him for the first time, but excited too. She’d even promised to bring him back a real souvenir from Earth. 

She’d kissed him goodbye then waved with a smile, just like people were doing now. The difference was, she never came home. 

_Mission gone wrong_ they’d said. The words had haunted Keith for years. He’d never held high enough security clearance to get the full details of her mission, but he wasn’t sure he wanted them anyway. All that mattered back then was the stark reality that his mom was gone. The Blades had called her a hero for working to restore trust in the Galra after the war, but Keith didn’t care about heroes. He had little time for false idols. All he’d wanted was his mom, but she wasn’t coming back.

Keith had sworn he’d never step foot on that Terminal again, but ten years later he was back and making himself a liar. At least this time it was on his own terms.

All around him voices were hushed—the atmosphere ripe with anticipation. Not that Keith could blame them. The Ender’s Colony only offered a shuttle to Earth once a year, and securing yourself a ticket on it was damn near impossible. The only ones who ever got on the shuttles were high-ranking diplomats and their family—at least until last year. 

The Garrison—an elite private university on Earth—had spearheaded a joint collaboration with their government to establish an intergalactic exchange program with many of the remaining space stations to increase goodwill. Or so they said. Keith was of the private opinion that it was more of a public relations ploy than a true desire to reestablish political ties with space. Keith had only been a baby during the first war, and everything he knew was learned from history holograms and the few bits of firsthand information Kolivan sometimes let slip when he’d drunk too much Nunvil. Keith knew that the Galra had been on the losing end of the war, but he also knew that not all the Galra were the same. His mom and the Blades had been part of the Blades of Marmora—a secret group dedicated to ensuring peace throughout the galaxies. It was that and that alone that led to the Ender’s Colony being given privileges many of the further outlying Galra colonies were never granted.

It’d been nearly fifteen Decaphoebs since the end of the war, and Earth had finally declared that it was time to reestablish goodwill. And in the end, the reasons for why the new program had come into existence didn’t matter to Keith as much as ensuring he was part of it.

He’d worked his ass off to earn enough GAC to put in his application, praying his high aptitude and test scores would overrule his long list of behavioral infractions. As much as Ender’s was his home, the truth was he hadn’t felt like he belonged there. 

For as long as Keith could recall he’d felt like he didn’t belong so it’d been no surprise when, the night before his mom was set to depart to Earth, she’d handed Keith a photo of his father and told him he was half-Terran. Somehow, it wasn’t a surprise. How could it be, when Keith had never looked like his mother or any of the other Galra around him. She was only telling him what everyone else had already known—that Keith didn’t truly belong on a Galra space station.

He didn’t belong anywhere.

Keith pushed away the memories as he slunk against the side wall, tightening his grip on his tiny rucksack and making his way through a group of Galra saying their goodbyes. The eldest, likely the mother, looked like she was trying not to cry as she pressed a luxite blade into the young Galra’s hand. She curled her fingers around the hilt, crinkling the crisp white envelope in her palm beneath it—the same envelope burning a hole in the pocket of Keith’s jacket.

Unlike the Galra around him, Keith didn’t have anyone wishing him luck or a fond farewell. He knew if Kolivan or Ulaz had been able to come they would have, but their own peacekeeping missions were too important to put on hold for a public goodbye. Besides, Keith didn’t need anyone there crying over him, something he was absolutely certain Kolivan would’ve done, if the way he’d sniffled and told Keith how much he looked like his mother several Quintant before was any indication. It was easier this way. No one there to get too emotional over Keith, and no reason for him to get too emotional either.

He was going to miss the Blades, they were the closest thing he had to family since they’d taken him in after his mother's disappearance. He would always be grateful for the way they’d protected and sheltered Keith, refusing to let him become a ward of the Galra state or be thrown into the chaos of the intergalactic orphanages that had riddled the galaxies after the end of the war. 

But as much as he loved space, there was a soul-deep itch in him to get to Earth—to see the wide open skies and the thing called grass for himself. Keith had seen pictures of Earth, of limitless amounts of land and clear blue skies they had _everywhere_. Lands with so much green everything looked alive, and desert scapes painted in shades of red. Earth was vibrant and full of life in a way space wasn’t. Keith had never seen anything but the dark expanse of space and the lifeless metal walls of the Ender’s Colony. Before his mom died she’d claimed that keeping him there was to keep him safe, and afterwards the Blades had claimed the same thing.

Keith had been too busy just trying to get by day to day to challenge it. But now, well, Keith was tired of living safely. 

He wanted to explore, to see more than the endless black on the horizon and his own insignificance staring back at him. He wanted to know what the warmth of the sun felt like on his skin at least once before he died. Mostly though, he wanted a chance to live without the weight of expectations. He knew the whispers that often followed behind his back, the things they called him—always too human for many of the older Galra to accept, but too Galra to get to Earth. At least until now 

This exchange program was his one chance to get off the Ender’s Colony and find out who he was.

Not Galra or Terran. 

Just Keith. 

****

*******

Keith was utterly exhausted.

The long hours of pre-flight security checks, last minute interviews about his plans on Earth, and then two hours of waiting for the ship to refuel meant that by the time Keith was finally allowed into the cargo bay of the ship, he’d already been at the Terminal for nine hours. All he wanted to do was sleep.

Unfortunately, Keith hadn’t been able to afford a private seat in first class like the children of diplomats and merchants. Kolivan and Ulaz were respected, but respected didn’t pay the bills. 

Keith had taken up a part-time job working in the engine room the day he’d got his acceptance letter. The work was grueling, unglamorous, and dangerous, but the pay was really good, likely because of the high injury and turnover rate. In the end, Keith had only worked there for eight Phoeb, long enough to earn him a nasty scar across his right cheek from a blown engine and a pocket full of spending money. Granted, that pocket of GAC—soon to be exchanged for Terran currency—needed to last him the entire semester, but the money was his and his alone. 

The future was his. 

Unfortunately, for the time being his future did not include a plush seat for the long journey or a warm meal. All Keith got was spare space and a cold hard floor on the leeward side of the spaceship. It wasn’t fancy but it did the job, and Keith situated himself into the corner, dropping his rucksack to the ground and using it like a pillow as the engines roared to life and the floor beneath him rumbled.

The remaining Galra sharing Keith’s space looked nervous, and Keith didn’t blame them. They were leaving home—or the only version of it they’d ever known. Most of them, like Keith, had been born on Ender’s Colony. But unlike most of them, whose greatest ambition was following in their parents’ footsteps to gain political power, all Keith wanted was freedom. 

Keith didn’t like to think about what he was leaving behind, but instead focused on what he was going towards. If he worked hard enough and did well at the University then he had a real shot at making a future for himself on Earth. Keith knew a select few exchange students would be given the opportunity to apply for dual citizenship if the program went well—serving as figureheads for the program and spearheading a future of goodwill between space and Earth. Not that most of his fellow companions knew that. It was technically still a secret, but what Kolivan and Ulaz lacked in GAC, they more than made up for in connections and information. 

Keith tried not to think about that too hard though, just in case things didn’t go his way. Keith was an expert at not thinking about things.

_All passengers secure your belongings and prepare for take off. Departure in three Dobosh_

Something in Keith’s stomach fluttered at the announcement—somewhere between nervous excitement and complete and utter nausea. As the propulsion engines kicked in, it really hit Keith for the first time that this was _real_. This was really happening. It wasn’t just a fantasy or an arbitrary goal, but a concrete reality now. Keith was actually getting off the space station and down to Earth. He was going to get the chance to be a normal person for once. Or as normal as a half-Terran, half-Galra orphan from an intergalactic exchange program could be.

Keith had spent so much time making sure he did everything he could to get himself on the shuttle to Earth that he hadn’t given himself any time to think about what it might feel like. And what it felt like was overwhelming—something as terrifying as it was thrilling. 

Beneath him the floor rumbled as the engines were turned to full throttle and the ship disembarked from the docking station. Slowly it began to float away from Ender’s Colony and with every bit of distance, Keith’s chest constricted. He’d never stepped foot off the colony, never been this far from home.

He pressed his hand against the glass window, welcoming the chill. His eyes were riveted to the rapidly disappearing space station he’d spent his entire life on. Despite his exhaustion, Keith kept his eyes open as long as he could, watching as the space station became nothing more than a memory. Farther and farther into the depths of space they went, passing through swirling nebulas and galaxies Keith had only ever seen in holograms. Before long nothing was visible through the windows except the fathomless depths of space.

Even with the wormhole which had been arranged for their journey, Keith knew it would be another eight Varga or more until they landed on Earth. He kept his eyes open as the inky blackness around him twisted and morphed into something beautiful—nebulas and solar flares filling the sky with their own kind of magic. 

Keith stared out the window for what felt like years, watching as the swirls of stardust turned to black. The farther they traveled, the heavier Keith’s eyes got until he could no longer keep them open. His last thought before his head dropped down onto his rucksak was that the next time he opened his eyes he’d be looking at the clear blue skies and wide open landscapes of Earth.

****

*******

Metal. Metal for as far as the eye could see.

Keith stumbled, nearly falling into the Galra in front of him as his eyes roamed over the massive bunker their spaceship had docked inside. So much for clear skies and wide open vistas. All Keith could see were Terrans in military gear, making Keith feel more like a refugee than a documented exchange student. If this was how they were welcomed, he shuddered to imagine how Earth might treat those who tried to come uninvited. 

One minute Keith had been deep asleep and the next he’d been flying through the air as the ship made a rough landing, sending Keith rolling across the floor and the contents of his rucksak scattered across the hull. And now he was facing a Terran whose facial expression made Kolivan look downright cheerful.

“Travel documents please,” a Terran official dressed in a strange green uniform instructed. Their tone was brusk and they didn’t make eye contact. Keith wondered if that was something he’d missed. Was he supposed to make eye contact first, or avoid it? None of the books he’d studied had mentioned the demeanor of Terrans, and it occurred to Keith for the first time that he’d spent all his time studying their lands and modes of government and economy, and not the people who inhabited the planet.

“Documentation,” they repeated. “If you’re not prepared to present your planetary pass and holocard, move to the end of the line.”

“No, I have it,” Keith said, sparing one fleeting glance at the long line behind him. The last thing he wanted to do was end up in the back of that. 

The official tutted, lips thinning as they held out their hand.

Keith did his best not to get flustered by the Terran’s manner—they were technically the first Terran besides himself he’d ever spoken to, maybe they were all like that. Ignoring their frown, he pulled his rucksack against his chest to rummage around. He’d thrown the contents back in haphazardly after landing and was now regretting not spending more time ensuring the most important stuff was on top. 

The Terran sighed heavily and Keith resisted the urge to pull a rude gesture in his direction, unsure how familiar Terrans might be with Galra customs. It was probably best not to make a bad impression this early just in case.

Keith continued to dig around, pushing aside his balled up shirts and pants, his chest loosening in relief as his fingers curled around holocard tangled up in a pair of his socks. He withdrew it, fingers curling around the metal and pressing his thumb to the ID pad to unlock it. Immediately, a hologram of Keith’s face flashed between them and began to recite his identifying information. 

_Name: Keith T. Kogane_

_Age: Twenty Decaphoeb_

_Hair: Brown_

_Eyes: Violet_

_Species: Half-Galra, half-Terran_

_Discerning Features: Scar across right cheek, birthmark on the left side of the gluteous max—_

Keith dropped the holocard in surprise, his holographic image disappearing in a blip the moment his fingerprint was no longer resting over the security sensor. 

“Was that enough?” he croaked, refusing to blush or check if anyone near him had been paying attention. 

“You don’t look Galra,” they said, eyeing him from top to bottom. 

Keith grimaced, pushing up his top lip with both hands to bare the tips of his two fanged teeth. They were the most Galra thing about him, at least visibly. Apparently no matter what solar system he was in, how he looked was always going to dictate what people thought of him. 

She shrugged. “Identification sufficient. I’ll just need to scan your planetary pass before you can move on to the next checkpoint.”

Keith was too preoccupied digging his planetary pass out of his rucksack to give much thought to what exactly next checkpoint might be. That was a problem for Future Keith. Current Keith needed to get his pass scanned before he was kicked to the end of the line.

Once he’d located his planetary pass and had it scanned, forced on a smile for a set of photos that were presumably entered into some sort of Terran database, and had his palm scanned, he was allowed to pass. 

Unfortunately, the next checkpoint wasn’t outside like Keith had hoped he would be sent. Instead, he was escorted through a long, poorly lit tunnel and into another empty hangar that looked like it had been haphazardly turned into a makeshift med-bay. The far wall was lined with windows, most of which were hidden behind heavy curtains, except for the uppermost corner where the curtain fallen off its railing to let in a sliver of what Keith could only assume was genuine sunlight. He’d seen holograms of it, read about its blinding brightness—but nothing in his studies could have prepared him for the sight of warm beams of light streaming down. 

Not artificial light that never seemed to warm him up even when he left it on all night to escape the darkness, or fake fluorescent bulbs that made his eyesight blurry when he looked at it too long, but _sunlight_.

Keith itched to run across the room and stand beneath the windows, to see if he could feel the echo of the sun’s warmth on his face. He almost did it too, but a hand on his arm prevented him. 

“Proceed to Station One for your health check and final processing please.”

Keith’s lips turned down in a frown. “I already did that on Ender’s.”

He still felt squirmy from just how thorough the Galran Healers had been too. Keith supposed they wanted to be sure anyone who went to Earth was emotionally and physically healthy enough to make the journey and handle an entirely new ecosystem, but having his birthmark recorded in a file of pertinent information wasn’t something he was going to forget any time soon.

The Terran who had accompanied him didn’t change her expression, but when she spoke again her voice was noticeably clipped. “I don’t know what the Galra did on the Ender’s Colony and quite frankly, Mr. Kogane, I don’t care. Here on Earth we have our own set of protocols and as a citizen of Earth for the foreseeable future you will follow those protocols. Now, please proceed to Station One for your health check with the doctor, unless you’d rather be escorted back to the space shuttle.”

 _Doctor_ , not Healer. Keith filed away that knowledge for later. 

“So, do we have any problems here?” She asked. 

Then she did the most confusing thing ever and smiled, an act which didn’t at all match her words or tone. It didn’t make any sense, especially since all of Keith’s research had led him to believe that like the Galra, Terrans viewed smiling as friendly. 

Despite his rising urge to argue or complain about what was happening, Keith did neither. He’d known things would be different here. Certainly he could deal with a bit more poking and prodding and some inhospitable behavior from people he never had to see again. This was fine. He was so close to freedom he could taste it. What were a few more hoops to jump through? 

“No. Everything is great.”

****

*******

Everything was not great.

There was nothing quick about their _routine med check_. Keith had thought the Galra were paranoid, but Terrans were something else. It’d started simple enough—basic vitals check. They’d done a quick holo sweep to verify he had no fever, which he didn't, and a simple screening to check his blood pressure and heart rate. Everything had been fine. Until it wasn’t.

Until they were pricking his finger for what they claimed would be a very basic blood screening. _It’ll only take a few minutes_ the Terran had assured him, smiling kindly at Keith. So Keith had pushed aside his reservations—Galra didn’t often give blood willingly—and held out his right hand. The doctor had had run a quick disinfectant sweep over his finger then jabbed it, collecting a small enough blood sample that Keith was able to ignore the little voice in his head that wanted to protest at part of his life force being collected. 

They’d stuck a small bandage over the finger and turned back to their computer system, dropping the small disk with his blood into a tube and then tapping away at their datapad. It became apparent pretty fast that the Terran had either lied or Keith’s studies of Terran time measurement were off because it didn’t take _ten minutes_. It was at least twenty Dobosh before the Terran had turned around with a puzzled expression on his face and insisted he needed another sample.

Every bone in Keith’s body wanted to resist, but he’d held out his left hand and closed his eyes as they took a second sample. Except this only seemed to make things worse, because the monitor was then flashing the words _unknown data entry_ , the Terran was mumbling to himself, and before Keith knew it, every single Terran doctor was hovering around his chair as they whispered and pointed as if he wasn’t there. 

Apparently none of them had got the memo that along with a ship full of Galra exchange students, they’d also be getting one ragtag half-Galra half-Terran—a fact that was apparently causing issues as they muttered things like _unprecedented levels of antibodies_ and _immune to immunization b456_ and looked at him as if he were more alien to them than if he’d been full Galra.

No one bothered to explain to Keith what the problem was, but it was clear there was one, if the way they kept whispering was any indication. Eventually, one of them confessed that his being half and half was unprecedented, and their system couldn’t seem to decide what immunizations someone like him might require. 

He wanted to complain about them being ill-prepared to handle him when he knew full well the Galran Healer on Ender’s had sent his entire medical work up at least two Movements before, but no one seemed to care what he thought of the entire situation. Or what the Galra had already handled back in space. 

Eventually, the Healer—no, doctor, Keith reminded himself—working with him was so stumped he’d resorted to bringing in more doctors for second opinions, all while pointedly ignoring Keith’s attempts to remind them that not only did have a full bioscan before he’d left, but that his immunizations were completely up to date. His words fell on deaf ears and in the end they’d seemed entirely unsure what to do with him because of his mixed heritage and ended up deciding to simply double up on his immunizations. Which meant that not only did he need to receive the exact same ones he’d had before he left, but also an entire set of new ones too—ones that none of his fellow exchange students needed because unlike Keith, they weren’t half-Terran. 

The shots were unpleasant to say the least, especially since between the full set for Galra and the full set for an Earth-born Terran, Keith needed nearly fifteen. _Fifteen._ Even worse, they were apparently still using needles to administer them, something Keith hadn’t heard of being done in nearly ten Decaphoeb. Not since the druids had discovered that the trace minerals in Dhildes stamens allowed for rapid absorption of antibodies. 

Keith made the mistake of saying as much out loud—a harmless comment about Earth being more archaic since Galran immunizations were now routinely given orally—which seemed to ruffle many of the doctors, most of whom looked to have taken the comment as a personal offense. It was then that Keith realized he had yet to make a good impression on anyone on Earth so far. Then again, they weren’t exactly making great ones on Keith either, so they were at least even that way. 

Once the doctors started giving the shots they stopped talking, which suited Keith just fine since he was beyond exhausted by that point, hungry, and getting close to snapping at the next person who asked him if he was okay, since he very clearly was not okay. 

He was all alone on an alien planet being poked and prodded to excess because he didn’t look like a typical Galra. Even worse, he’d been stuck in the med-bay for so long every other exchange student had come and gone and the sun had long set. 

Keith had no idea what time it was but his chance at seeing the sun was gone, at least for today. The only plus side to the entire lengthy debacle was that as long as they were injecting him full of Terran antibodies, at least they weren’t taking any more of his blood. By the time they’d slapped some more bandages on his arms and sent him on his way, it was pitch dark outside. Not even the small moon that circled Earth was visible that night. 

There was no chance at appreciating the supposed beauty of Earth when all Keith could see as far as his eyes could roam was hard black ground and darkness. 

Maybe he’d made a mistake leaving behind everything he’d ever known. Maybe Earth was nothing like he’d been led to believe. Maybe he shouldn’t have come.

Disappointment settled in the pit of Keith’s stomach. 

Maybe there was nothing good about Earth.

****

*******

The journey from the landing base to Garrison University had been uneventful enough, at least once Keith had managed to convince himself that the strange earthbound vehicles called cars that Terrans used were safe.

Somehow, even after studying Terran transportation and watching multiple holo videos about it, Keith still hadn’t been prepared for the way the cars just _started and stopped_. It was jerky and abrupt and made Keith feel like he might be sick, even if the last thing he’d eaten was a bowl of leftover Eklialial nearly a Quintant before. This feeling was made worse by the unfortunate discovery that the streets Terrans used to get from one place to another were overrun with these things, and that all of them just wove in and out of each other constantly. Keith couldn’t tell why the cars were always changing lanes since no one seemed to get anywhere any faster than the car beside them.

The third time his driver cut through a line of cars beside him he nearly sideswiped a bus, and Keith slammed his eyes shut. That unfortunately, was a mistake. Space travel was smooth. Or at least Keith’s single trip on the shuttle had been so. Aside from their rough landing, you never even felt the shuttle flying through space. Cars on the other hand were absolutely awful. 

Every time the Terran who was driving moved the steering wheel, the car jerked one direction or the other and Keith _felt_ it.

Less than a Varga later and they finally arrived at the University. Keith was so grateful the car had stopped moving he flung the door open and practically leapt out, desperate to get as far away from the moving death trap as possible. Quickly his legs carried him away, the sound of the car rumbling fading into the distance. Keith stopped beneath the light of a massive lamp as it occurred to him that he had no idea where he was going. A realization that came just a bit too late because by the time he remembered that he hadn’t bothered to ask his driver for directions to his dorm, the driver was long gone. Everyone was gone.

Turning in a circle Keith hoped he might see someone he could ask for help, but in every direction all he saw were rows and rows of abandoned cars.

Wonderful.

Completely alone and with no idea how to get where he was supposed to go, Keith did the only thing he could and dropped to the ground—utterly exhausted and stressed out. 

This trip wasn’t going like he’d planned. At all.

Keith felt the moment his jaw began to quiver and he pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in his hands. 

For as long as he could remember he’d been desperate to get to Earth, to find out why his mom believed the Terrans were so special. And now he was here, and he was cold and hungry, and he’d never felt more alone in his entire life.

“Hey, Uh...you okay down there?” Someone asked.

Keith’s shoulders tensed, too caught off guard to wonder where the heck the person in front of him had come from. He inhaled sharply through his nose as the last tenuous grasp on his composure faltered.

“No,” Keith snapped, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes and refusing to look at his new mystery companion. “Do I look alright to you?”

“Not really. Maybe I can help,” they unexpectedly offered. 

The voice definitely sounded male but Keith didn’t have the emotional energy to look at them and check. He didn’t have the emotional energy for anything. 

“I don’t see how,” he mumbled, willing himself not to cry. 

Keith never cried, not even in front of Kolivan or Ulaz. He absolutely would not cry in front of some random Terran, even if logic told him this might be his only chance at figuring out where in the world his dorm room was, or how to acquire food, and that he needed this person’s help. But Keith wasn’t capable of being logical when every ounce of him was tired and hungry.

“Try me,” they shot back. 

If Keith hadn’t been so tired he might’ve appreciated what a nice voice the stranger had—calm and soothing and almost enough to stop Keith from losing it.

Almost.

“I’ve had the worst day ever,” Keith said, dropping his hands from his eyes and staring at the ground and the bright white of the shoes on the Terran’s feet. He could feel the word vomit coming and there was nothing he could do to contain it. This poor Terran had no idea what he was in for. 

“First I spent twelve Varga sleeping on the cold hard floor of the back of an intergalactic space shuttle which crash-landed, literally. Which was fine, because I’d spent my entire life desperate to get to Earth and I worked my ass to get here so, fine, whatever, I could deal with some third class accommodations. But then I get here and Earth is about as welcoming as an angry Ghaik'et. Which was also fine because I can handle less-than-friendly people, but then I had my heritage questioned and I thought at least here what I looked like wouldn’t matter so much.”

Keith paused to take a breath, and when the Terran didn’t say anything he continued on letting everything out.

“And then, and then...I was subjected to embarrassing and honestly painful poking and prodding because of my heritage, and now I’m covered in so many weird Terran bandages I look like I took on a dragon and lost and then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, I was forced to ride in a moving death vehicle you Terrans call a car, and maybe possibly nearly died and now I’m here. But here isn’t good enough because here is some sort of Terran transportation graveyard and not the dorm room I was supposed to be in who knows how long ago. But instead I was being barbarically poked with needles, which by the way means I missed seeing the sun for the first time in my entire life might I add. So now I’ve missed my orientation and meeting my new roommate and I haven’t eaten in so long my stomach is trying to eat itself and now I’m sitting on the ground pouring my heart out to some random stranger I don’t even know and—”

“Shiro,” he said, dropping down to a squatting position and holding out his very large hand into Keith’s personal space. “You can call me Shiro.”

“Shiro,” Keith repeated, blinking stupidly at the Terran in front of him who was not only the only person around, but also quite possibly the most gorgeous person, Galra or Terran alike, that Keith had ever laid eyes upon.

Shiro smiled and Keith was struck stupid with how painfully beautiful it made him. He had soft, grey eyes that were crinkled at the corner from the force of the smile that was directed at Keith,and long strands of hair as white as starlight fell across his forehead. Like Keith, he too had a jagged scar on his face, though his was across the bridge of his nose, and his lips were full and pink and so pretty. So pretty.

“So see,” he said, unaware of Keith’s train of thoughts. “There’s one problem solved. Now we know each other and we’re friends.”

“Friends,” Keith echoed, wondering if he was now doomed to just repeat everything Shiro said.

“Yup, friends.”

“You can’t make friends that easy,” he protested. He didn’t even have any Galran friends, the idea of making a Terran one in just a few Ticks seemed inconceivable. 

“Sure it is,” Shiro said, dropping down onto his ass and crossing his legs.

Right, apparently he was planning on just sitting there with Keith. _Like a friend._

Keith wasn’t entirely sure what Terran social norms would dictate, there was nothing about meeting a pretty boy in an abandoned car graveyard covered in his _Intro to Earth_ studies, and there was definitely nothing about how to make small talk with someone so attractive in the _Terrans and Talking_ course they’d made him take so he understood Earth slang. There was simply no precedent for what was happening, and Keith didn’t have a clue what to do. So he did nothing, choosing instead to stare at Shiro and the sheer girth of his body.

Since landing on Earth, Keith had been pleasantly surprised to find that he was of average size compared to them, sometimes even bigger than the ones he encountered. It was a nice change from Enders where’d he been called a runt his entire life.

Except Shiro wasn’t the same size as Keith, or any other Terran he’d yet to encounter. 

Shiro was _big_.

Big chest. Big arms. Big thighs. Big hands. 

One of which was reaching out to lightly rest on Keith’s forearm. It was metal, and shimmered beneath the overly bright lights. The touch sent a shiver down Keith’s spine. He knew that Terrans were a more tactile species than the Galra, but to know it objectively and see it for himself were entirely different things. The Galra prized personal space and autonomy above all else, and the only time you’d catch one touching someone who was not part of their clan was in battle.

Keith could count on one hand the number of people who had touched him. Well, before today. Even the doctors hadn’t touched him more than necessary. 

But here was Shiro, a man he’d just met, staring at Keith with his impossibly kind eyes and wide smile as he touched Keith's arm in a way that in his own culture would indicate they were intimately acquainted.

It was thrilling and unexpected and for reasons that made no sense at all, Keith never wanted him to stop.

“Now, how about we get you some food. The cafeteria is closed already which means if we stay here your only option is a some potentially questionable trail mix from the vending machine. But, uh, if you’re up for another try at a Terran death vehicle, I know a place.”

“Where?” Keith asked.

“In n Out,” Shiro answered, his hand still resting on Keith’s forearm.

Keith had no clue what in the world an In n Out was, and the idea of getting back in one of those horrible car things was pretty low on his list of pleasurable ideas. But something told him he could trust Shiro, and he was so hungry it was starting to hurt. The way his luck was going, whenever he finally found his roommate he would probably be a complete and utter dud or a jerk. But right now there was Shiro, and Shiro was kind and offering Keith food. Even if this went against all of Keith’s basic survival knowledge about strangers, every bit of him wanted to say yes. So he did.

“Okay.”

****

*******

Fifteen Dobosh and a noticeably better car ride later, Keith had his answer about what in the world an In n Out was.

Everywhere he looked was white. So much white. It reminded Keith of the med-bay he’d been stuck in when he first arrived, and he sincerely hoped the food was better than the atmosphere.

“So, we just order whatever we want and they give it to us and we eat...with other Terrans? All while sitting very close together,” Keith said, eyeing the brightly lit inside with no small amount of apprehension. Keith had read enough about Terran culture to know that it was considered normal to go out to places that did nothing but sell food, but it was still a strange concept for Keith, who had never once in his entire life engaged in communal eating. The act itself was unheard of Ender’s, partially because the Galra as a whole were intensely private by nature, and also because living space and food was rationed to the point that something like this could have never existed on a space station. 

The novelty was exciting, but the fear of making some massive social faux pas or having strangers watch him eat was more than just a little unnerving. 

“Uh, yes,” Shiro answered, his hand hovering midair almost as if he was about to touch Keith before he pulled it back and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a fast food place. You can order off the menu, or the secret menu if you know about it. Then you just pay and wait for your food and you know...eat.”

“Right,” Keith said, psyching himself up for the experience. 

This In N Out place wasn’t exactly welcoming—too sterile in appearance and colder than his living quarters when the heating systems overloaded and stopped working—but the smell was nice. Really nice, if Keith was honest. It was quite possibly one of the best things he’d ever smelled in his entire life. It was nothing like he’d ever smelled before, and even though he didn’t have a clue what anything might taste like, if it was half as good as it smelled then Keith would be a very happy man. In fact, Keith was so hungry at that point it could have tasted like rotten Sniktag and he would’ve eaten it.

“So, what do you like?” Shiro asked, gently tapping his fingers on Keith’s side, presumably to urge him to move to the side as a large group of Terrans who looked to be around the same age as them entered the building.

Keith shifted to the side, impossibly close to Shiro, to make room for the large group as he eyed the menu, unsure how to order without making himself look like an idiot. In theory, he knew what french fries and hamburgers were—they were American food staples. Or so the documentary on Terran eating habits he’d watched had claimed. But holding that knowledge did nothing to help Keith with the logistics of figuring out how or what to order.

“I like Uxe stew and pickled Vrakloht,” he offered, shrugging helplessly.

Beside them the group of university students laughed loudly and Keith jumped, nerves on edge. As if sensing his overload, Shiro stepped between him and the rowdy crowd of students and ducked his head so his face was close to Keith’s.

“How about I just order a bunch of stuff and we find out what you like?”

Keith thought about the precious amount of Terran dollars in his pocket and how they needed to last an entire semester and hesitated. He was pretty sure he had more than enough money, but the exchange rate wasn’t something Keith could do off the top of his head, not when he was so tired and hungry and definitely functioning at less than full capacity. 

“My treat,” Shiro added softly. “It’s not every day a guy gets to introduce someone to the life-changing wonder that is a double double at In N Out. Let me at least show you some real Earth hospitality. I promise you all humans aren’t assholes, even if you’ve met more than your fair share of them since you got here.”

As if in answer, Keith’s stomach grumbled loudly. Shiro laughed, his cheeks getting little wrinkles in the sides as his smile widened.

“Some things transcend even galaxies, including an empty stomach. Why don’t you snag that table in the corner,” Shiro said, pointing to the only unoccupied table in the entire packed place, “and I’ll get the food.”

“Okay,” Keith agreed, partly because he really was starving, but mostly because Shiro was nice and pretty, and Keith was eager to prolong his time with Shiro as much as possible.

“Great,” Shiro grinned, immediately shuffling to the side and into the back of a very long line to order. 

Keith hovered there awkwardly for several Ticks, just staring at the back of Shiro’s head before it occurred to him that if he didn’t hurry, someone else might take their table. Moving quickly he wove through groups of people and made it to the back just in time to slide into the little red chair. A chair which Keith discovered a moment later swiveled. He couldn’t fathom why a chair needed to move from side to side and decided then and there that Terrans made absolutely no sense.

It wasn’t long before Shiro returned, sliding into the opposite chair. The tables were clearly meant for Terrans much smaller than Shiro, who Keith noticed barely fit—his broad chest hanging over the lip of the table and his long legs bumping Keith’s beneath the table. Not that Keith minded.

“Sorry, this place is crazy on Friday nights. But hopefully they should call our number soon and then, poof, food.”

“That’s alright,” Keith said, twisting the long white piece of paper around so that he could read it. It looked to be an itemized list of food with a very substantial monetary total at the bottom. Keith frowned, trying to figure out how much GAC there was in $53.56.

“So, you’re one of the Ender’s Colony exchange students.” Shiro said. It was the first time he’d mentioned it. Keith had felt certain he wanted to in the car but when Keith had buckled his seat belt and closed his eyes, Shiro had stopped talking, allowing Keith some quiet. Shiro had been an infinitely better driver than the first Terran, but Keith still wasn’t sure cars were something he enjoyed.

“Yeah,” Keith nodded, resigning himself to being incapable of mathematics when his stomach was trying to eat itself and pushing the paper away. 

“That’s really fucking cool.”

“Oh,” Keith breathed, somehow surprised at Shiro’s words. It was exciting for him— he’d never thought anyone else would care if he came here. It made his insides feel funny to imagine someone like Shiro glad he’d come to Earth. “Yeah it is.”

“I always wanted to go to space. When I was a kid I used to climb onto the roof of my grandparents house and jump off to try and fly. I used to want to go so bad.”

“Used to,” Keith prompted.

Shiro’s smile fell, and he scrubbed a hand across his face.

“You don’t need to tell me,” Keith said, wishing he hadn’t asked. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Shiro said, reaching behind his head to tug off his Garrison University sweatshirt.

It made Keith’s tongue feel too big for his mouth to watch Shiro’s t-shirt get stuck and ride up, showing off the flat of his stomach, and to see how much bigger he was beneath the shapeless fabric. Keith was so distracted by the sight of Shiro’s wide chest in a thin white t-shirt it took him a few Ticks to realize Shiro was tapping the plastic tabletop with his metal fingers. Keith blushed, hoping Shiro hadn’t noticed his staring.

“The space program isn’t too keen on this,” he said, gesturing to his right arm. 

It was only then that Keith realized that Shiro didn’t just have metal fingers, he had an entire metal arm. Or most of his arm anyway. The metal extended up his wrist and right forearm, along the fully jointed elbow, and then up his bicep. There was a fair bit of scar tissue where the metal joined his flesh, visible near the hem of his sleeve.

The prosthetic was a thing of beauty—crafted from what was unmistakably Luxite—and inlaid with small purple lights in the circuitry. 

“How did you get this,” Keith whispered, unaware Earth had ever had access to Luxite. It was the Galra’s most prized commodity, even more valuable than GAC.

Shiro cleared his throat. “Nasty accident when I was a teenager. I almost died and lost my arm.”

“But the arm,” Keith clarified, unable to stop himself from reaching out to run his fingers along the top of Shiro’s metal wrist. It was cool to the touch and perfectly smooth. The craftsmanship was out of this world. Literally. “This is Galra tech.”

“Oh that,” Shiro said, stretching the arm out farther for Keith’s inspection and turning his wrist over. “I guess I was pretty lucky on that front. This is light-years above what Earth is capable of doing with prosthetics. My grandpa worked for Altea Tech, and a few years after the accident he managed to get me in for an experimental project. There was a lot of hush hush stuff about it, and I never did get to meet the person who’d designed it, but when I was done I had this and well...it’s as good as a real arm. Not quite the same look but I’m grateful for it even if it makes me look like a science project.”

“It’s beautiful,” Keith whispered, tracing his fingers along the complex lines of coding that was engraved along the inside of Shiro’s forearm. It was written in Vryknev—a mostly unused dialect of Galran used only by Healers. Keith couldn’t read it, but he recognized enough to know what it was, and knew that whoever was responsible for Shiro’s arm must have been Galra.

“Can’t say anyone has ever called it that before,” Shiro said, voice catching a little. 

It was only then that Keith realized he was _touching_ Shiro in front of other people. His entire body flushed hot and he jerked his hands back into his lap, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. 

“Do you really think it's beautiful?” Shiro asked as he pulled his sweatshirt back on. It ruffled his hair, making the long bits in the front stick up to the left. 

“Yeah,” Keith said. “Luxite is...it’s a gift. There is nothing more precious to the Galra. It’s only found on New Daizabaal. But after the war...the intergalactic peace council didn’t trust my people to return. Eventually the planet was destroyed and we were sent to various space stations around the galaxy. Spread out far and wide, likely in the hopes that my people could not unify. It didn’t matter than not all Galra were the same, that not all of them had wanted war. My mom used to tell me stories of New Daizabaal when I was a child. There was beauty there too, not just war.”

Keith paused, blowing out a breath. “Luxite is usually only passed down through clans or presented to warriors as a sign of honor. To have that is...special.”

“I had no idea,” Shiro said, staring at his metal fingers. “No one ever told me. Thank you.”

Keith wasn’t sure anything he’d said was worthy of a thanks but he refrained from saying so since Shiro looked happy.

“I think—oh, they called our number. Hang on I’ll get the food,” Shiro said, slipping out of his tiny chair and taking his receipt over to the counter where they were handing out the food.

Keith drummed his fingers on his knees as he waited for Shiro to return, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched Shiro say something to the young Terran girl who passed him their order. Whatever he’d said must’ve been funny since she threw her head back in laughter, leaning over the counter to tell him something in return. Maybe Shiro was just nice to everyone he thought morosely. Shiro turned to return to Keith, but paused at the little counter filling tiny white cups with mounds of a red liquid substance that Keith was positive he was not going to consume.

Thankfully it was less than a Dobosh before Shiro finally came back to the table and when he did, Keith’s mouth fell open. There was even more food than he’d expected.

“Did you buy the entire In n Out?”

Shiro laughed, shrugging. “I just wanted to make sure you tried everything.”

When Shiro said everything he apparently meant _everything_ , literally, because he set down two red trays of food overflowing with different burgers and then disappeared, returning a few Ticks later with several cups of something to drink clutched to his chest and a third tray which was also full of food—this time full of french fries, some plain and others with globs of thick orange stuff. There was barely room on the small table for all of it, and Keith stared in surprise at the plethora of options in front of him, trying to remember the last time he’d seen that much food at one time. He’d never starved, not even close, but food was tightly rationed on Ender’s. While you never had less than you needed, you also never got extra.

“So, let me give you the rundown,” Shiro said, sliding one of the little cups of red mystery goo in front of Keith. “These are the shakes. I got one of each, so there’s strawberry, chocolate, or vanilla.”

“Right,” Keith said, trying to remember what the heck a shake was.

“And then we’ve got the burgers. I wasn’t sure what toppings you might like, so I got a few combos. This one in the corner is just a plain cheeseburger with nothing on it, then this one here has cheese, spread, and raw onions. Then we’ve got, uh...grilled onions and spread with pickles and lettuce. Then this row are the doubles, so we’ve got a double double with grilled onions and ketchup and mustard instead of spread, a double double animal style and a 4 x 4. Oh, and this tiny little one in the corner is just a plain grilled cheese, just in case you don’t eat meat.”

“What kind of animal is on it?” Keith asked, leaning closer to see if he could tell.

Shiro laughed and Keith jerked back, his cheeks heating. Despite his every attempt, he’d obviously made a fool of himself already.

“Shit sorry, I wasn’t laughing _at_ you just...it was cute,” Shiro huffed, making Keith’s cheeks pink further. Maybe cute had another meaning than he was aware of, because no one had ever called Keith cute except maybe his mom when he was still a kid, but he wasn’t little anymore. “Not an animal like that. Or well, I mean technically a burger comes from a cow so I guess that is an animal, but, uh..it’s part of the secret menu here. It just means there’s mustard fried onto each of the meat patties and then it's also got pickles, grilled onions, and extra spread.”

Keith licked his lips. Somehow that didn’t clear up anything.

“We’ve also got a lot of fries if none of that sounds good to you. I got one regular, one light, one extra crispy, and one animal style. Just so you could see how you prefer them.”

“What’s your favorite?” Keith asked quietly, not a clue how to pick when each item was as unfamiliar as the next.

Shiro rubbed his hands together, looking unmistakably excited. “I like the double double animal style myself, but really you can’t go wrong with anything here. Just pick whatever you want and eat as much as you want.”

“Aren’t you hungry?” Keith asked, trying to imagine eating so much food all by himself.

“Oh, well yeah, but I want you to pick first. I can just have the leftovers or whatever. It’s all good.” 

Keith looked down at the rows of burgers until his eyes landed on the right one, then he reached for it and handed it to Shiro.

“Oh,” Shiro breathed, the tips of his fingers brushing against Keith’s as he took the paper-wrapped burger. “You’re sweet. Thanks.”

Keith cleared his throat as he shrugged, reaching for the biggest burger on the tray.

“Ah, the 4 x 4. I can see that you are a man of culture,” Shiro said with a grin before taking a bite of his own burger.

Keith wasn’t sure what Shiro meant, but he was too hungry to ask and he opened his mouth to take massive bite. The sound he made as he did so was something innate and primal and not at all Keith’s fault because he was so hungry, and the 4 x 4 was quite possibly the most delicious thing he’d ever put in his mouth.

Shiro finished chewing, then licked his lips, and watched Keith. “Good?”

Keith chewed in record time, forgoing answering Shiro with words and instead taking a second bite bigger than the first, barely repressing a groan. Flavors. There were so many flavors.

It wasn’t until he’d finished his fourth bite—and subsequently half his burger—that some of his brain cells started functioning again and he was able to talk.

“Is all Terran food this good?” Keith asked, eyeing the rows of french fries and desperately wanting to try them but suddenly feeling unsure. Once again the idea of having to make a decision was too much.

“Not all of it, no. But there’s a lot of good food here. I might be biased, but I personally think In n Out is at the top of the list of great American food establishments. Then again, I’m a simple man and easy to please.”

A thought flashed through Keith’s mind of being someone who knew Shiro, who knew what pleased him. It was a ridiculous thought, and Keith stuffed his mouth full of burger to stop himself from saying something embarrassing. Shiro was just some nice Terran helping out Keith. It didn’t mean they were going to stay friends. 

“They’re really good with ketchup,” Shiro offered, blissfully unaware of Keith’s racing thoughts. He snagged three plain fries between his metal fingers, dipping them in his own little cup of red goo, and shoving them all in his mouth at once. He let out a little hum of pleasure. “Shit, I would marry french fries if I could.”

Keith had no idea if Shiro was joking or not. He’d not read a lot about the Terran tradition of marriage, but he’d been led to believe it was between two Terrans, not a Terran and a french fry. Then again, Keith had once seen a particularly eccentric Galra try to host a mating ceremony with a Quadrak, so maybe anything was possible. 

“I’m sure you would make the french fries very happy,” Keith offered, earning him a loud bark of laughter.

This time Keith didn’t flush with embarrassment. Normally Keith hated being laughed at—rebelled at the idea of being the butt of a joke—but there was something about the way Shiro looked at him as he laughed. It didn’t feel bad. In fact, it felt nice to have amused Shiro.

“You were joking,” Keith said, more of a statement than a question as he licked the spread from his fingers and took another giant bite. He kept his eyes on Shiro as he chewed, surprised he wasn’t more embarrassed at his own mistake.

“Yeah, I was joking,” Shiro laughed, shaking his head as he reached for several more french fries. He dipped them in ketchup then chewed slowly, clearly thinking about something. Keith finished his burger, finally deciding to grab some french fries. They were warm and salty and unlike anything Keith had tasted in space.

Without pausing he reached for more, shoving them into his mouth before he was even done with the first ones. He understood what Shiro meant now. French fries were clearly a gift.

“I think I’d marry french fries too,” Keith declared as he reached for more, this time feeling brave enough to dip them in his tiny cup of ketchup. It was sort of weird and a little sweet, and Keith really, really liked it.

Shiro grinned at Keith as he picked up a fork and dug it into the pile of fries Shiro had called animal style. Then he handed the bite to Keith, a mass of fries dripping with the same stuff that had been on his burger. “Wait until you try these.”

Try them Keith did, eagerly plucking the fork from Shiro’s hand and stuffing the bite into his mouth. It was just as good as the burger except it was on French fries, which somehow made it better. Keith decided then and there that In n Out was obviously one of Earth’s greatest accomplishments. 

“Don’t you want any?” Keith asked, afraid he was monopolizing the food. 

“Nah, enjoy,” Shiro said, dropping his hands into his chin and watching Keith. 

Warmth flooded Keith’s cheeks at being watched and he ducked his head, digging the fork into the pile of cheesy fries and stuffing his mouth full. 

It wasn’t until two thirds of the fries and nearly all the burgers were gone that Keith leaned back in his chair, more full than he could ever remember being. 

“I’m going to explode,” Keith said, though he still lifted the strawberry shake and tried to slurp out the last melted bit. 

“You know what,” Shiro said, leaning his elbows on the table, “I’ve never seen anyone who could eat more than me.”

Keith blinked, stopping mid loud slurp and letting the straw fall from his mouth. 

“Is that good or bad?” 

“It’s impressive,” Shiro told him.

“Oh, uh...thanks,” Keith said, his cheeks heating. Terrans certainly gave out compliments freely. 

“You know, when I realized I’d left my earbuds in my car and was gonna have to leave the comfort of my bed to trek all the way across campus I was pretty unhappy. I never would’ve imagined how tonight would turn out, but this was fun.”

“Yeah, it was,” Keith agreed. 

Spending his first night on Earth eating Terran fast food with a complete stranger was just about the last thing he would have expected to happen. After his disastrous arrival and first few experiences with Terrans, he’d almost regretted coming—been ready to hate Earth and the people on it. Then he’d met Shiro and everything had changed. Now here he was, happy and full, and spending time with someone who was quite possibly the nicest person he’d ever met. 

There was clearly something special about Shiro because Keith was not a people person. Or an alien person. He was—well, he wasn’t sure what he was, but most people didn’t seem to find him as charming as Shiro seemed to think he was. Normally Keith wasn’t great with small talk, but it felt natural with Shiro. It was easy. 

Shiro was easy to like. 

Keith imagined he must have a lot of friends, that Keith was no one special. Still, it was something special to him, and Keith knew even once they parted ways and he found his new roommate and settled into Earth, he wouldn’t soon forget Shiro’s kindness. Or how painfully attractive he was. 

“So, we managed to solve the not-knowing-anyone problem, and we solved the hungry problem. All that’s left to do now is figure out your roommate and dorm confusion,” Shiro announced as he condensed the trash and wiped the table off. 

“Oh yeah, of course,” Keith agreed. It made sense now that Shiro had fed him he was eager to get back to his own life where he didn’t have to rescue helpless Galran exchange students.

“Do you have your housing notification letter?” Shiro asked.

“Yes,” Keith answered, leaning back to pull the wrinkled up letter out of his back pocket. He unfolded it, smoothing down the creases and reading the words he now knew by heart. 

_Dear Keith Kogane,_

_The United Coalition of Planetary Peace, in collaboration with Garrison University and Earth, is pleased to announce your acceptance into the winter semester of our intergalactic exchange program._

_Included you will find attached the details of your admittance along with your class schedule._

_For the duration of your time at Garrison University, you will reside in Balmera Hall. Your roommate, Takashi Shirogane, is a junior who is double majoring in Astrophysics and Interplanetary Communications & Relations. He’s also the president of the Garrison University Honor Society and the founder of Terrans for Peace—one of the spearheaders of the intergalactic exchange program. _

_We look forward to seeing you on Earth._

Keith stopped reading after that, the rest of the letter full of page after page of boring stipulations about his scholarship and the entirety of his class schedule and required book list. 

“He’s probably a total Vhyldak,” Keith sighed, folding the letter back up and shoving it into his pocket. 

“A what?” Shiro asked, the tips of his ears going a little pink.

“Oh, it’s a Galran expression,” Keith said, trying to figure out how to explain it in Terran terms. “Like a...a dud? Or maybe a jerk. He just sounds too good to be true, you know?”

“I don’t know about a jerk, but he’s definitely a dud,” Shiro laughed. “Real stick in the mud whose idea of a wild Friday night usually entails staying in his dorm room alone studying or maybe if he’s feeling reckless and has the time, binging something on Netflix.”

“Oh, so you know him then?” Keith asked, not a clue what Netflix was, and hoping he hadn’t stuck his foot in his mouth if Shiro and this Takashi guy were friends. 

“Oh yeah, I know him,” Shiro snorted. There was an unreadable expression on his face but he didn't seem to be offended.

Keith knew on a very logical level that he should be grateful that Shiro was going to be able to help him figure out where he was supposed to stay tonight, but all he felt was an unexpected twinge of regret that this night was coming to an end, and he wouldn't have any reason to stay in Shiro’s company. 

“So, what’s he like?” Keith asked, worrying his hands in his lap. Then, before he could stop himself, he gave voice to the one question he wanted to ask. “You, uh...you think we’ll get along?”

“I know it,” he said, a smile splitting his face. 

Then he did something Keith would never, ever forget and stuck his hand across the table. 

“Nice to meet you, Keith Kogane. I’m the full-time dud, but hopefully not an asshole, that you’re stuck with for the foreseeable future. Also known as Takashi Shirogane.” He paused, looking way happier then this entire situation warranted. “Most people just call me Shiro though.”

Keith opened his mouth but nothing came out except a tiny little sound that absolutely couldn’t have come from Keith because Keith didn’t make sounds that embarrassing. Ever. Especially not in front of the most beautiful man he’d ever seen who was also kind and funny, and apparently also his new roommate. 

“You’re my roommate,’ Keith croaked, wishing a wormhole would come and engulf the entire In n Out and put him out of his misery. Things had been going so well too.

“I am,” Shiro agreed, his lips still quirked up at the corners as if something about this entire mortifying scenario was amusing. “To be honest, I kind of suspected as much since my roommate—or well you—missed our meeting and orientation just like you were saying in the parking lot. But the program said it was a standard delay and to expect you later and...well there are nearly three dozen of you guys in the program so you could’ve been someone else’s roommate.”

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Keith asked, still unsure why Shiro didn’t seem offended.

Maybe if he pretended he hadn’t made a complete idiot of himself Shiro would too.

“Oh, uh,” Shiro coughed, turning his face into his palm and mumbling something into his hand that Keith most definitely couldn’t make out. His English was excellent, as it was for most of them on Ender’s Colony, since learning the language had part of their core curriculum for as long as Keith could remember. Knowledge was power after after all.

But it was still a second language, and one Keith couldn’t make out mumbled like that. 

“Huh?”

“Why don’t we get back. I can give you the grand tour,” Shiro said, very clearly changing the subject. “You’ve got to be exhausted.”

“Oh, uh...yeah. Sure. That’d be great,” Keith said, suddenly nervous. 

It’d been easy enough to be around Shiro before because there were no expectations. He was just some kind but random Terran, and Keith had been free to be himself because it didn’t matter what Shiro thought of him. 

Now, he wasn’t just some random person anymore. He was someone important at the Garrison, and on Earth, apparently. Most importantly though, he was Keith’s roommate. 

Shiro was someone Keith was going to be seeing on a daily basis for as long as he was lucky enough to stay on Earth. Sure, he seemed to like Keith now, but that was only because he hadn’t spent much time with Keith yet. It was entirely possible he’d get tired of the way Keith snored, or get sick of Keith inevitably asking too many questions about Terran homework, or realize that Keith wasn’t nearly as funny as Shiro seemed to think he was. Keith liked himself just fine, but he was also smart enough to know that not everyone else did. 

Keith had never really cared about what other people thought of him. He liked himself and that was all that mattered. Yet somehow less than one Quintant into his stay on Earth and here he was worried about what Shiro thought. And Keith was honest enough with himself to admit it wasn’t entirely because Shiro was going to be his roommate, but because Shiro was nice and funny and so pretty, and Keith maybe, possibly, was experiencing something he never thought he would—a crush.

It was ridiculous because somehow Keith had survived twenty solar cycles on Ender’s without giving more than a passing fancy to anyone. But one look at Shiro, one shared meal and a few laughs, and Keith was hot under the collar and his stomach squirmed in ways he wasn’t used to. 

What Shiro thought of him felt weighted in an entirely new way, and Keith didn’t want to ruin things.

“You ready?” Shiro asked, rising to stand and collecting all of the trash, because he was apparently helpful like that.

“Yeah,” Keith answered, grabbing his rucksack off the ground and throwing it over his shoulder as he followed Shiro back to his car.

Keith probably didn’t even have a crush. In fact, it was probably indigestion from too many animal style things. 

_This was gonna be fine_ , Keith told himself. Once he had a decent night’s sleep and settled into things he and Shiro could just be friends and this weird little feeling trying to worm its way from his stomach into his chest would disappear.

This was _fine_.

****

*******

“So, uh...this is us,” Shiro said, stopping in front of a nondescript brown wooden door.

He dug around in his pocket then withdrew a set of keys with multiple different bobbles and things hanging from it. Keith itched with curiosity, wondering what they all were, but he didn’t want to get caught staring.

Instead he glanced up and down the noticeably empty hallways. Even so late at night he’d expected to meet more students.

“There will be a lot more people in a few days,” Shiro told him as he jangled the keys, clearly searching for a specific one. “All of us with roommates from the exchange program were given our keys early so we could help you guys settle. The rest of the Hall gets to move in this Tuesday.”

Keith swallowed, trying to imagine two more Quintant spent with no one but Shiro. The idea wasn’t horrible. Not even a little bit.

“Ha, found it,” Shiro proclaimed, shoving a silver key that looked exactly like the rest into the door. He turned the key, the knob turning. Instead of pushing the door open though, Shiro turned to look at Keith. “I’m not sure what exactly you’re used to in space, but I might have slightly exaggerated the need for a grand tour. Also, when you didn’t show up earlier I got kind of antsy and ended up unpacking my stuff, but if you’d rather have my side of the room we can switch.”

“I’m not picky,” Keith said, unable to imagine a scenario where he cared what half of a room he slept on.

“Well, you can just let me know, okay? If you change your mind.”

“I won’t,” Keith said.

That seemed to convince Shiro who pushed the door open, stepping inside first and turning a light on. Keith followed, shutting the door behind him and turning around to take in what was now his new home.

“Dorms are small,” Shiro said, moving behind Keith and leaning back against the closed door, presumably to give Keith an unobstructed view. 

Keith was used to sharing very small quarters with Ulaz and Kolivan, crashing on the sofa since they’d been unable to allocate a two bedroom space on the station after taking Keith in. Which was fine. All Keith had needed was a safe place to sleep and food. He’d never cared that he didn’t have his own room or bed.

At least he hadn’t thought he had. 

But a weird rush of excitement rushed him as he realized this room was just for him and Shiro. “It’s perfect.”

Shiro audibly exhaled. “Cool.”

The excitement grew as Keith really took in the room.

There were two narrow beds, one on each side of the room. The beds were raised with storage space beneath them, and there was a small desk at the foot of each bed. It was easy to spot Shiro’s side of the room since the bed was made—crisp white sheets and a white blanket on top. Keith took a step closer, curiosity getting the best of him as he eyed the photo on the desk—Shiro standing with his arms around an old man who was unmistakably his grandpa if their similar nose and ears were anything to go by. They both looked happy—really happy. Beside the photo was a coffee cup decorated with what Keith recognized as the Terran Space force—NASA—and filled with an array of colorful pens and pencils. In the corner of the desk was a stack of books arranged by color and size and a notebook open with elegant handwriting scrawled across the pages. 

Above Shiro’s bed was a huge poster that spanned the length of the bed that looked like the night sky, though Keith didn’t recognize the constellations. He also had a string of something hanging haphazardly above the poster that lit up, and beneath his bed there was a tidy little row of sneakers in different colors.

Keith inched closer, trying to figure out which stars were in the photo when he caught sight of something sticking out from beneath Shiro’s pillow—a tail.

He jumped, shuffling backward. “There’s something alive in your bed.”

“Oh, uh. No,” Shiro mumbled, from behind Keith. “That’s nothing.”

“Yes,” Keith insisted, positive at what he’d seen. “There was a tail. Stand back, I can handle this.”

Keith reached into his back pocket and pulled out his knife. Whatever mystery creature had invaded Shiro’s bed, Keith could handle it. It couldn't be worse than the vermin that haunted the air ducts on the space station.

Behind him Shiro made a loud choking noise as he quickly moved around Keith and towards the bed. Before Keith could advise him against it since he was unarmed, Shiro was leaning over his bed and reaching for the small mystery creature. He wrapped his hand around it before turning back around and holding it for Keith to get a better look.

On closer inspection, it appeared similar to a Terran lion he’d once seen in a holovideo, but it was considerably smaller and worse for wear—one of its plastic eyes was missing and there was a tiny hole on its left ear. Keith reached out to poke the face and wrinkled his nose in confusion when he realized it was definitely some kind of Terran toy. “It’s not real.”

“No, it’s not,” Shiro agreed, clearing his throat. The bridge of his nose was bright red, along with the tips of his ears. “This is Black. I’ve had her since I was three.”

Deciding that Black was clearly not a threat, Keith pocketed his knife and flushed with embarrassment. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re good. I mean, I know it’s kind of silly. Who brings a stuffed animal to college? Just...I—” Shiro paused, blowing out a breath. “Don’t laugh at me okay.”

“I’m not laughing,” Keith said softly, watching the careful way Shiro cradled the ugly little stuffed lion to his chest as if it were made of Luxite.

“My grandma gave her to me. It was the last thing she gave me before she died and my grandpa used to tell me that as long as I kept it with me, my grandma would be with me too and...I know it’s kind of ridiculous because I’m twenty-two now but—”

“It’s important to you,” Keith said, understanding dawning. 

“Yeah,” Shiro agreed, ducking his head. He returned the little lion to his bed, this time prominently displaying her in the middle instead of hidden beneath his pillow. 

When he turned back around to look at Keith, there was an almost shy smile on his face.

“Why don’t we get your side set up?” Shiro said. “Where’s the rest of your stuff anyway? I can help you make the bed and unpack if you want or maybe you’d rather just sleep and do it tomorrow.”

Keith licked his lips as his eyes roamed back over Shiro’s half of the room and how lived-in it looked—little bits and pieces of things that meant something to Shiro that he’d specially chosen to bring with him. 

It made him think about the single photo he had of he and his mom from the day of her launch, and the letter Ulaz had given him before he left tucked safely inside the rucksack along with the small bag of Galran crystals Kolivan had insisted he take to bring him luck on the journey and his tiny leather bag he took everywhere. Each of them were special, some of his most prized possessions, but they were nothing to fill walls or shelves with. 

“Oh, uh...this is all I have,” Keith mumbled, shrugging and nodding to the rucksack hanging off his right shoulder. He hadn’t owned much on Ender’s to begin with.

“Oh, they didn’t let you bring all your stuff with you?” Shiro asked, cocking his head to the side. “They at least should’ve let you bring some of your mementos or something.”

“No, or well—I mean yes. We could bring things. Just...this is all I have,” Keith repeated. 

Several expressions passed across Shiro’s face at once, each of them as hard to read as the last. 

“It’s not a big deal,” Keith insisted, dropping his rucksack onto the unmade bed. _His_ bed. “Only the merchant class really had extra GAC for things beside food and fuel, you know.”

“But that means you don’t even have sheets,” Shiro said, looking more upset than Keith was.

“It’s fine, really. It’s a bed which is more than I had on Ender’s and—“ Keith snapped his mouth shut. He hadn’t meant to say that. The truth just kept spilling out around Shiro.

“Okay, well I guess I know what we’re doing tomorrow,” Shiro said, expression brightening. 

“What’s that?” Keith asked, surprised to realize he too was smiling. It was hard not to, what with Shiro looking so excited. 

“We’re going to Target.”

****

*******

“So, what exactly do we need?” Keith asked, pausing to stop in front of the massive red building and eyeing the letters across the front in giant red letters—Target.

Beside him, a Terran with two small children hanging off the side of a red cart moved around him, the smallest one turning to look at Keith as he picked his nose and the older-looking one licked the cart and begged for a toy. 

Unconsciously Keith took a step closer to Shiro, wishing he’d brought his knife. He wasn’t gonna _use_ it, he just would’ve felt better knowing he had it was all. Somehow he’d foolishly allowed Shiro to convince him he wouldn’t need it.

“Ah, first rule of shopping at Target—you don’t go to Target because you need things, you go to Target to find out what you need.”

“I don’t understand,” Keith said, wrinkling his nose. “What in the galaxies does that even mean?”

“You’ll see,” Shiro laughed, nudging Keith’s shoulder with his own and grinning. 

It was the third time he’d done it today already, and Keith was now certain Shiro was going to kill him. It’d been less than twenty-four hours spent with him, and Shiro’s easy way with verbal or physical affection, as if Keith wasn’t someone he just met but a lifelong friend, was going to ruin him. Every time Shiro touched him, he didn’t want it to stop. 

“Come on, this will be fun,” Shiro said, resting his hand at Keith’s lower back for half a Tick before pulling it back and inclining his head towards the automatic doors. “I promise.”

“Sure, fun,” Keith agreed, even if he couldn’t imagine it. 

They’d had markets on Ender’s every few Phoeb—small stalls set up in the center court with handmade garments and linens dyed with rare inks that cost more than Keith made in half a Quintant and handheld pies rich with spices that cost as much as a Movement’s worth of food. 

As a child Keith’s favorite thing in all the world had been the rare occasions his mom had taken him—holding her hand as they strolled the market, trading for things they couldn’t afford, and making small talk with the merchants. After her death it’d never held the same appeal, both because Keith was horrible at bartering—his interpersonal skills weren’t good enough—and because he never had enough GAC to buy the things he really wanted

He couldn’t imagine it would be much different now.

Different planet. Different form of currency. Different market, so to speak. But it was still _shopping_. 

The only reason he was there was for Shiro, who seemed to be more upset than Keith at the idea of him not owning his own towels and shower caddy—whatever that was. Shopping wasn’t on the top of Keith’s list of fun things, but getting to know Shiro was.

Keith followed Shiro inside, hovering close to his side as they entered the store. Keith’s mouth fell open when they went inside. It was _huge_. It looked huge on the outside, sure, but Keith had assumed that was some illusion of grandeur. In reality, it was as expansive inside as it appeared from the outside.

“I take it there’s nothing like this on the space station?” Shiro asked, pulling out a shopping cart from the long rows of carts lined up in front of the store.

“Not even close. Space is a commodity in, well, space,” Keith laughed, falling in line beside Shiro as he began to slowly meander forward. “It’s kind of ironic considering outer space is so huge, but on the station...there’s just too many of us. Every resource is monitored and rationed.”

“I guess we have more space than we know what to do with on Earth,” Shiro said, stopping in front of—well Keith wasn’t sure what. There were several rows of things all jam-packed onto shelves. 

“Welcome to the dollar spot,” Shiro said, waving his prosthetic out dramatically. “Also known as the black hole of Target, where you sometimes find yourself with a cart full of things you’re not sure you need but somehow can’t resist.”

Keith wrinkled up his nose, bending down to examine a row of little Terran plants. He picked one up, his nose wrinkling even further. “It’s _fake_.”

“Of course it’s fake. It’s only a dollar. Besides, some of us can barely keep ourselves alive. Do you know how much emotional responsibility I would feel if I had an honest-to-god live plant in my room? What if I killed it? I had a goldfish once when I was nine and it died and I’m still not over it.”

Keith shook his head, placing the plant back down. An entire planet, with enough space to breathe fresh air and have as many real live plants as you wanted, and they had ones made of plastic. “Terrans are strange.”

“Maybe a little bit,” Shiro agreed. “Speaking of weird, what do you think?”

Keith stood up, peeking around the shelf to see Shiro’s massive hands inside little plastic animal heads. They were blue with long teeth. He opened and shut his hands, the tiny plastic teeth inside the creature’s mouth moving as he did, and made chomping sounds as he got closer to Keith. 

He was ridiculous, and Keith bit the inside of his cheeks to keep from smiling.

“Oh, come on, not even a laugh?” Shiro said, inching his hands closer. 

“Were you deprived of playtime as a child?” Keith asked, unable to hold back his smile any longer when Shiro started to chomp at his hair. He swatted him away, laughing.

“Yeah, I was a very lonely kid,” Shiro said, tone serious. He dropped his hands to his side and put the little animal face back on the shelf. “Thank you for bringing up my tragic childhood.”

“Oh,” Keith said. “I’m sorry I—”

“I’m just joking, Keith,” Shiro said, a smile playing at the side of his lips. “I mean I was sort of an awkward kid with imaginary friends but my childhood was anything but tragic.”

“I didn’t mean anything bad,” Keith said. “I uh...I’m not great with people. Or aliens, to be honest. I, uh...I don’t have a lot of experience with friends. Or you know, _any_. I was kind of a loner on Ender’s. I’m not that easy to like.”

“Keith, you’re fine. I promise. Besides, you seem to be doing just fine to me,” Shiro offered, more kindly than Keith felt he deserved. “And I like you.”

Keith’s cheeks warmed but the fear of accidentally messing this up persisted. “Just you can tell me, okay? If I do something rude or stupid or totally alien that you’re not supposed to do on Earth. Or if I accidentally hurt your feelings.”

“Well, now that you mention it. You’re not supposed to stand on the cracks on the floor,” Shiro said seriously, pointing down to Keith’s feet. “Huge social faux pas.”

“Why?” Keith asked, automatically jumping into the center of the white tile.

“Because...because,” but then he broke off laughing. “I can’t, I’m sorry. I’m just messing with you.”

“You know, when you offend the honor of a Galra we feed you to a Vrogden.”

Shiro immediately stopped laughing. “Seriously?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Keith said, trying to disguise his own amusement.

Shiro studied him for several long ticks before snorting. “You’re messing with me.”

“Maybe,” Keith agreed, unable to pretend any longer. “Were you scared?”

“Terrified,” Shiro said.

“Good,” Keith said, puffing out his chest. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Oh yeah, and what’s that?” Shiro asked, reaching for a pack of paper plates with dinosaurs on them and tossing them into the cart. 

“To be honest, I’m not entirely sure. But you’ll be the first to find out.”

“I’m honored,” Shiro said.

Keith couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, so he ducked his head hoping Shiro wouldn’t notice the heat blooming on his cheeks. He wasn’t used to joking with anyone like this. It was easy. Almost too easy. 

“Oh my god, they have Valentine’s stuff out already,” Shiro yelled, rounding the corner to the next row of stuff.

“What’s Valentine’s stuff?” Keith asked, following him.

“You don’t have Valentine’s Day in space?” Shiro asked, picking up a little wooden sign in red and pink that read _you + me = happy_.

“Uh, no.”

“Right, of course. It’s, uh...an Earth holiday. Well, holiday is a bit of an exaggeration, not everyone celebrates it but a lot of people do. Usually little kids or, um, people in love. The easiest way to explain it is that it’s a day to tell people how you feel about them. A celebration of love I guess. I mean, a lot of people think it’s kind of commercial, but...it’s sweet too. You give gifts to show someone you like them, or maybe ask them to be your Valentine, like heart-shaped boxes of chocolates and flowers and ugly teddy bears with hearts with sappy sayings on it and stuff.”

“And Terrans enjoy this?”

“Some,” Shiro said. “I know it’s kind of cheesy sometimes but it’s nice too, you know? The idea that someone likes you enough to want you to be theirs.”

Shiro exhaled softly, scrubbing a hand through his hair.

“Is it important, to be someone’s Valentine?” Keith asked, not quite sure he understood.

“It can be. Just depends on the people doing the asking and answering, I guess. You don’t have anything like it?” Shiro asked, setting the sign back down and picking up a pack of something called _conversation hearts_ and tossing them into the cart.

“No,” Keith answered quietly, watching the way Shiro’s eyes lingered on the garish pile of cards decorated with glittery hearts.

“Do you, uh...do you have a Valentine?” Keith mumbled.

“Me?” Shiro asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “Ah, no. Can’t say that I do. Haven’t in a long time, to be honest.”

“Are you not interested in having one?” Keith asked, unable to restrain his curiosity.

“Oh, I mean...if the right guy came around sure.”

 _Guy_ , Keith thought, head swimming. That was surprising. 

It wasn’t unheard of for Galra to mate with the same gender, but it wasn’t common either. It hadn’t even occurred to Keith that Shiro might share the same persuasion as him, or that it might be more common on Earth. 

“That’s not a problem is it?” Shiro asked, shoulders deflating. “Me being gay, I mean. I don’t know what the Galra think about it or anything I just—”

“It’s not a problem,” Keith assured him. Then, standing in the middle of Target he said something to Shiro he had never spoken aloud to anyone before. “I like them too. Guys I mean. And girls sometimes. Mostly guys though.”

Keith swallowed, unsure why it felt as if there was an asteroid stuck in his throat. His entire body was flushed with heat and as the Ticks went by he wondered if he’d said too much. While the Galra were no stranger to same gender matches, liking both was still less talked about. Binaries were easier for people to accept, which was exactly why Keith had never told anyone. Maybe it was the same on Earth.

“Oh. That’s cool,” Shiro said, the tips of his ears a little pink. “You, uh...want some Oreos?”

“What are Oreos?” Keith asked, unable to believe that, just like that, one of his biggest secrets was out to a relative stranger and the galaxies hadn’t swallowed him whole. 

“Only the best cookie _ever_ ,” Shiro proclaimed, grabbing a small blue cup of something, apparently Oreos, off the shelf to his right and waving them in front of Keith. “You know what, if you’ve never had an Oreo this little dollar cup is definitely not good enough. We need a full pack of them, probably the double-stuffed ones too.”

Keith had no idea what double-stuffed meant, but so far he’d enjoyed everything else Shiro had introduced him to. “Ok.”

“Sweet,” Shiro said, tossing the tiny plastic cup of Oreos back on the shelf.

Before they left the dollar spot, several more items were added to their cart including a small desk calendar Shiro insisted would keep Keith organized, a pack of erasers in strange shapes that Shiro called donuts, and for some reason one of the little fake plants in a rainbow pot. 

Keith wasn’t entirely sure where they were headed next, but Shiro appeared to be steering the cart with focus. He paused when he found a massive red thing in the middle of the aisle full of the Oreos he was looking for, throwing in two packages _just in case_ before proceeding back down the long semi-crowded aisles.

Shiro talked as they walked, randomly pointing out things for sale on endcaps or down random aisles and talking about Terran customs. It was nice the way he volunteered information without making Keith feel dumb, filling the silence without expecting Keith to help. That, and Shiro had a really, really nice voice, and it wasn’t long before Keith realized he would happily listen to Shiro talk about anything so long as he kept talking.

Without meaning to, Keith fell just a few steps behind Shiro, watching the way his shoulder muscles looked as he leaned his elbows on the cart. It made his t-shirt pull across his back in a way that felt indecent for public and made Keith nearly swallow his tongue. He was still chatting away about the time he’d eaten an entire bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos on a dare, but all Keith could do was stare at the swell of his ass and the breadth of his thighs, which were so thick they rubbed together when he walked—the thin grey material of his pants bunching up and making it hard for Keith to breathe. 

He couldn’t believe everyone in Target wasn’t just stopping to stare at Shiro and how attractive he was. It was honestly obscene.

Growing up Keith had gotten used to his peers talking about a primal sexual need that made their bodies run hot and left them aching and desperate twice a Phoeb. Besides experiencing mating seasons, the Galra also chose their partners based on sexual compatibility and pheromones. 

When conversations inevitably came up about sexual exploits with his peers, he avoided them as much as possible. Keith had been attracted to plenty of Galra, but he’d never wanted to have sex with them just because of some stupid Galra mating cycle his body had never gotten the memo about. 

Keith had simply assumed that not having a primal need to mate once he’d hit puberty was because he was only half-Galra and not because something about him was a little broken. He always imagined that maybe humans didn’t experience attraction and sexual compatibility the same way Galra did, and hoped that just maybe he wasn’t as odd as he’d always felt. But that had always been a guess. It wasn’t as if there’d ever been anyone he could ask about why he didn’t want to take anyone up on their offers for casual sex. 

Everything Keith knew about his human side was based on blind assumptions and hope anyway. His few pathetic experiences with kissing had been lackluster at best and while he’d been attracted to them, it hadn’t made his heart race or his body flush and he definitely hadn’t wanted to go further. 

Being the only human—or half-human anyway—on Ender’s was isolating in more ways than one, and eventually he’d chalked up his lack of intense sexual arousal to his own biology.

In one Quintant, meeting Shiro had changed everything he thought he knew about himself and his own desires because standing there in the middle of Target under bright fluorescent lighting, Keith had never wanted anyone the way he wanted Shiro. 

The low level of attraction Keith had been dealing with since he met Shiro had flared to life at the discovery of the other boy’s sexual orientation, and Keith didn’t know how he was going to survive. Maybe this was some weird part of being Terran that no one had ever explained to Keith. Maybe it was perfectly normal to be dealing with a half-hard dick as you followed a pretty boy around Target.

The more Shiro talked the less Keith was able to pay attention, unable to do anything but watch the way the material of his thin grey pants kept bunching up between his thighs just beneath his ass. It made Keith’s insides squirm and his clothes feel too tight.

Every single thing about Shiro’s body appealed to Keith in a way that made him absolutely insane and primal, and made him think about things that were probably very inappropriate in the middle of Target. Worse still, Shiro was also easy to be around and kind and funny, and Keith already liked him more than almost anyone he knew, which felt absolutely terrifying.

“You alright?” Shiro asked.

It was only then that Keith realized he’d stopped walking, and therefore so had Shiro, who was standing in front of him with his eyebrows furrowed together in obvious concern.

“I’m fine,” Keith croaked, unwilling to explain that he was having a minor emotional crisis. 

In theory, Keith had expected to face emotional turmoil on Earth—given everything he knew about his parentage and his mom’s disappearance, but he still felt entirely unprepared to be dealing withall of it so soon. 

Especially surrounded by people.

“I’m fine, just—” Keith shrugged. He didn’t know how to say _I’m confused about the way I feel when I’m around you_ without making things awkward, and Keith did not want to ruin this tentative friendship with Shiro. Not just because they were roommates, but because Keith genuinely liked Shiro and very much wanted to get to know him better. Something that wouldn’t happen if he blurted out _I’m having confusing and intense sexual thoughts watching your sweats get stuck between your thighs_.

“Ok, you know what. I have an idea. We’re gonna take a minor detour from bedding to electronics instead,” Shiro said, turning the cart. “Follow me.”

Keith did, eager to find out what Shiro had in mind. 

They passed aisles and aisles full of brightly colored toys and items for tiny Terrans and Keith’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. After so much scarcity on Ender’s, it was hard to reconcile in his brain that somewhere like Earth existed where supplies were in abundance and there was no fighting for resources or rationing.

A feeling that was magnified when they reached what was apparently the electronics department.

“What is this?” Keith asked, standing closer to Shiro than was strictly necessary to peer around his shoulder.

There was a screen with little holograms on it and two controllers sticking out. It appeared to be some kind of demo model of whatever was locked up in the case below it for sale.

“Video games,” Shiro answered. “I take it you didn’t have these on the space station either?”

Keith shook his head. “We had flight simulations.”

“We have those too and it’s similar. Okay, watch, put your hands here,” Shiro instructed, reaching for Keith’s hands and placing them on either side of the controller. 

Shiro resumed his stance in front of the other controller, holding his in a similar fashion. “Right, so this button here is jump, and this one makes you go forward. Then this one's for going backwards. Make sense?”

“Yes,” Keith said, already memorizing the buttons Shiro had told him to push.

“Sweet. Alright, I’m gonna start the level at the beginning.” He jabbed at the controller with his thumbs, rapidly scrolling through options on the screen and setting the level to beginner before moving on to character selection. “I’m just gonna scroll through, yell when you see one you like.”

“That one,” Keith exclaimed almost immediately, pointing to the character on the screen with two long swords strapped to his back. He was dressed in all black with only his eyes visible through a slit in his mask.

“Great choice,” Shiro grinned. 

Keith tried not to preen under the praise, unsure why it felt so good to feel as if he’d impressed Shiro.

“Yeah?” Keith asked, unable not to fish for more.

“That’s Yorak,” Shiro said, jabbing his thumb towards Keith’s chosen character. “He’s a wandering rogue. His swords can be used together if you get a power up to form a super weapon. He’s a total badass. It suits you.”

Keith’s cheeks definitely heated.

“Who are you gonna be?” Keith asked, clearing his throat.

“You’ll see,” Shiro said, sticking his tongue out as he clicked the button over and over flipping through characters until he settled on a princess with long flowing hair and a stupidly large poofy white dress.

Keith’s surprise must’ve shown because Shiro laughed. “Just wait and see.”

“Ok,” Keith said, unsure what exactly could be more surprising than Shiro’s choice. 

A lot, it turned out.

Shiro used a lot of Terran slang Keith didn’t know while playing, moved his entire body when he wanted his character to move left or right, and the princess he’d chosen had an arsenal of weapons hidden beneath her dress including an array of magic crystals to freeze Keith’s character which led to Keith’s death three times in a row.

Shiro was unsurprisingly really, really good at this game. 

Which objectively made sense, since he was from Earth and had obviously played the game before. But it did nothing to make losing easier. Keith never had been a good loser. 

“Ready to concede and crown me the true video game master?” Shiro laughed, looking smug.

It was cute, because it was Shiro, but Keith also really wanted to wipe the look off his face. Shiro was cute, but not cute enough for Keith to be okay losing to him. Ever.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Start the game again.”

“Your loss,” Shiro teased, bumping his shoulder against Keiths.

The next game was in fact Keith’s loss, but by the sixth round Keith had figured out how to unlock the double sword. By the seventh, he knew how to block the princess’s time crystals, and by the tenth he finally figured out how to use a super jump, all culminating in Keith’s victory.

“You beat me,” Shiro uttered, sounding surprised. 

“Yeah,” Keith laughed, adrenaline coursing through his veins. “I did.”

“Keith, _you beat me_.”

“Yeah,” Keith echoed, almost as surprised as surprised.

“But no one ever beats me,” Shiro said, turning his eyes on Keith. “I’ve had the highest score in this game for a year.”

Shiro’s words pierced through Keith’s haze of excitement and suddenly it was as if someone had opened the air-lock—his blood turning to ice as he panicked. What if Shiro didn’t want to be beat? What if he’d done something to lose the first real friend he’d ever had?

“Shiro, I—”

“Okay, you know what,” Shiro laughed, shaking his head. “I’m gonna call my grandpa and have him mail me my console next week and then I need you to teach me how you did that double jump right at the end before you beat me.”

“You’re not...upset?” Keith asked, unsure what was happening. “That I beat you I mean.”

“Am I—no. No. Keith, that was fucking amazing. You’re amazing,” Shiro said, eyes wide and earnest. 

Keith ducked his head, the controller falling from his hands. No one had ever called him that before, and he didn’t have a clue what an appropriate response might be.

“Thanks,” he whispered, hoping that was sufficient. 

“Ah, shit. It’s getting late,” Shiro said, suddenly looking down at his watch. “I swear to god, Target exists in a time vortex all to itself. There’s no fucking way we’ve been here nearly two hours already. And we still need to check out the bedding, and I was thinking maybe we should look at pajamas and—”

“I think maybe just the sheets,” Keith interrupted, staring at Shiro’s shoes. He didn’t want to dampen Shiro’s excitement but the more stuff that got added to the cart, the more worried about money Keith was starting to get.

“But you don’t have any pajamas. Or slippers.” Shiro’s eyebrows were furrowed adorably. “The dorm floors are freezing in the morning, trust me.”

He looked so concerned about Keith being comfortable it made Keith’s chest flutter. He wasn’t used to anyone else worrying about him like that. Ulaz and Kolivan cared about him sure, but that was because they felt responsible for him. They’d been close to his mother and part of his clan. This was different. This was someone who didn’t need to care whether Keith was happy or comfortable, but for some inexplicable reason did. 

“I just, uh—maybe just the necessities for right now,” Keith shrugged, knowing the bedding would already make a dent in his meager amount of money. Ender’s had been cold in the morning too. Keith could deal. 

“You know what, wow—I just remembered something,” Shiro said, grabbing his phone out of his back pocket and swiping open the screen. 

“What?” Keith asked.

“Just, I think maybe...hang on,” Shiro mumbled, his thumbs tapping rapidly at the screen. 

Keith’s curiosity was high but he couldn't see what Shiro was doing without being obvious about it so he did the only thing he could and waited.

“Oh wow, yes, I was right! Look at this, I found a gift card for Target I forgot about,” Shiro said, flipping the phone screen around to show him. “You can use this and get all the extra stuff you want.”

Keith’s eyes widened as he read the amount on the bottom— _150 Terran dollars_. He didn’t even need to mentally do the conversion rate to GAC to know that was a lot of money. 

“I can’t take that,” Keith protested.

“Yes, you can,” Shiro insisted. “I totally forgot about it and, uh...uh it might expire. Yeah, that’s it. Earth gift cards expire and so you would be helping me out if you used it. Otherwise the money might go to waste.”

Keith didn’t know a single thing about gift cards, but something told him Shiro was lying. Maybe it was the exaggerated pitch in his voice or just that Shiro had off-handedly mentioned at least a dozen things he planned on asking for his birthday. 

The thing was, Keith didn’t know why he would lie. It didn’t make sense. People didn’t lie for altruistic reasons, and they definitely didn’t buy things for someone they barely knew. At least nobody Keith had ever met did.

“Don’t you wanna use it for you?” Keith asked, hating how tempting the offer was.

No matter what he might have just told Shiro, the truth was he wasn’t looking forward to sleeping in the same things he wore to class, and the floor really had been colder than an ice storm that morning. The idea of something cozy to study in or warmth for his toes was as alluring as the smile on Shiro’s face. 

“I mean, you could buy me my Oreos. That’d make me really happy. And maybe Jiro too, if you wanted.”

“What’s a Jiro?” He asked. 

Shiro got a cheeky smile, leaning over and plucking the tiny little fake potted plant out of the bottom of the basket. He held it out towards Keith and shook it in his face. “Jiro, the mighty little plant that won’t die.”

“You _named_ the fake plant?” Keith snorted.

“Technically, it’s a fake succulent,” Shiro corrected, depositing it back in the cart next to his packages of Oreos. 

“What does it suck?” Keith asked.

Shiro stilled, turning around to look at Keith with wide eyes and pink cheeks. 

“It’s not—you know what,” Shiro laughed, throwing his arm around Keith’s shoulder. “Let’s go find you some sheets.”

“Okay,” Keith agreed, prepared to go buy just about anything if Shiro kept on touching him. 

On their way to the bedding department, Shiro took them on a minor detour to an aisle full of what he said was called sporting goods. Instead of wandering through they ended up staying there, throwing something called a football—which made no sense to Keith since you weren’t supposed to use your feet—back and forth down the long aisle. Shiro called what they were doing _catch_ , but since they each dropped the oddly-shaped ball at least half the times, Keith wasn’t sure that was a great name either.

In between passing the ball and laughing every time it knocked things off the shelves—which Shiro carefully put back in their correct place each and every time—Shiro began to talk about the start of the new semester and what classes he was most looking forward to. He talked about everything and nothing.

Keith learned that Shiro wasn’t just an overachiever on paper but in life too, and was taking twice as many classes as Keith. He’d been a Boy Scout, his high school class president, and spent his free time collecting Pokemon cards. He learned that Shiro was working so hard in the hopes of one day making enough money to support his grandpa, and that the only thing bigger than him was his sweet tooth, which he bashfully admitted was slightly out of control. 

Not only was Shiro smart and funny, he was also a little dorky and silly, and Keith filed away every single thing he learned about him in case memories were all he was left with. 

Talking to Shiro was easy—even if Keith did more listening than talking at first—and before Keith knew it, he wasn’t just listening, but volunteering little tidbits about himself. More surprising than the fact that he was talking, was that Shiro was _listening_. He wasn’t just politely paying attention, but genuinely seemed interested in every single thing Keith said. His eyes would widen and he’d whistle under his breath and ask questions as if Keith was the most interesting person he’d even known. Even weirder, he kept saying Keith was cool—something no one had ever called him before. 

The more excited Shiro got about hearing about Keith and his life on Ender’s Colony, the more Keith found himself wanting to talk. It should’ve been weird to be talking about his deepest secrets and greatest hopes with someone he’d known for less than two Quintants , but somehow it felt like the most natural thing to happen to Keith. 

Instead of hoarding away the story of his life, Keith found himself wanting to give it all to Shiro—anything to keep Shiro looking at him like he was something special.

It was a very long time before they made it to other parts of Target to look for sheets—somehow Shiro convinced him to get the highest thread count ones, whatever that meant. It was even longer still before they made it to the pajamas, where Shiro seemed overcome with glee to find a set of pajamas with dinosaurs on them. Keith wasn’t sure what was so exciting about extinct Terran creatures that would’ve eaten them, but he shoved them into the shopping cart immediately, daydreaming about the way Shiro might smile if he wore them.

By the time they left Target, Keith had more things in his strange red and white shopping bags than he’d ever owned in his entire life. Even crazier was that he was excited about it.

Keith, the boy who took pride in not needing or wanting anything, was now the owner of a pair of dinosaur pajamas, sheets with little stars on them, and a blanket that cost way too much but was the softest thing Keith had felt in his entire life. Somehow he’d also added a funny little lamp thing Shiro said was called a nightlight that looked like the moon and reminded Keith of space, and a bright red notebook with matching red pencils. Most shocking of all though was that Keith was happy about it all.

“So, what did you think of Target?” Shiro asked, popping open his trunk for Keith to deposit his stuff. 

Shiro turned around, leaning back against the car and crossing his arms over his chest as he smiled at Keith waiting for his answer. 

Behind Shiro the sun was beginning to set—hues of pink and orange painting the sky in something so beautiful it left Keith breathless. The only thing more beautiful than the sky was Shiro—the late evening light casting a warm glow on his pale skin, and the last rays of the day’s sunlight glimmering off his shock of white hair.

He was was nothing short of radiant and easily the most beautiful thing Keith had ever seen.

“It’s amazing,” Keith answered, not talking about Target at all.

Shiro smiled again, eyes crinkling up in the corners as if Keith being happy was pleasurable to him. It made something funny worm it’s way into Keith’s heart—flip flopping around. He’d never been the source of someone’s smile like that, and it was intoxicating. 

For the second time in barely a Quintant, all Keith could do was think _this was fine_. Keith could totally cope with a very small crush. It was entirely possible that once Keith had settled into the Garrison and Earth had lost its novelty, his crush would fade.

Yeah, this would definitely be fine.

****

*******

It rapidly became apparent that things were not, in fact, fine.

Which wasn’t to say they were bad. The opposite really. Things were _better_ than fine. Great even. Which was exactly where the problem was.

Settling into life on Earth was never supposed to be easy. Keith knew that. He knew full well that he was smart and capable and could do anything he set his mind to, but he’d also known that attending college on Earth would be a massive adjustment. He was more than aware of the challenges that might await a half-Terran, half-Galra who’d been raised in space. Everything from the way Terrans did math to their social norms and the foods they ate was entirely different to everything Keith had ever known.

Coming to Earth was his dream, but it was supposed to be _hard_. Keith was used to hard. His entire life had been hard.

It was never supposed to feel like coming home.

Barely three Movements after his arrival, Keith already settled into life on Earth easily—his dorm feeling more like a home than any place he’d stayed since his mom had disappeared. 

The schoolwork was rigorous and different enough from his classes in space that on his own Keith would’ve struggled, but it was never too hard because no matter how many classes Shiro was taking or hours he spent doing tutoring or campaigning for interplanetary peace, he somehow always had time to climb into Keith’s bed and sit beside him to help. Keith had never been good at asking for help, but he found he didn’t mind so much with Shiro, who never made Keith feel stupid or annoying—even when it took nearly fifty Ticks to finish one single math problem because apparently Terrans in the United States used something called The United States Customary Units and not the metric system like the rest of the planet and solar system.

Adjusting to the Terran cuisine was not really an adjustment at all because Shiro had apparently made it his life’s mission to introduce Keith to all of his favorite things to eat—often running all the way across campus to meet Keith in the cafeteria and help him figure out how to order or what to try. More often than not, Shiro didn’t even have time to eat himself and would show up just to check in with Keith and see how his day was, swipe his own meal card to get Keith extra food, and then inhale a gross looking thing called a protein bar before sprinting back across campus to his next class.

The social aspect was, well—that was definitely turning out to be the hardest thing to adjust to. Keith had realized pretty early on that Shiro was not representative of the majority of the Terran species. 

Certainly Keith had met a few other professors and classmates on Earth who were nice enough, but their odd way of making small talk while expecting Keith to respond in a certain way, or their propensity to stare when they realized Keith was Galra, set his nerves on edge. And that was nothing compared to the less-than-polite ones who dominated class lectures with inane commentary, or cut in front of him in line at the cafeteria, or hogged the computers in the computer lab and noisily ate their chips despite the no-food-in-the-library rule. 

All in all Terrans, like the Galra, were incredibly varied in temperament and disposition. The difference was that Keith knew what kind of body language or social cues to look for with the Galra, not so much with Terrans. It was something that made interacting with others in and out of class sometimes exhausting, since Keith was constantly hyperalert, trying to behave in the right way so as not to offend or draw attention to himself and the fact that he didn’t really belong on Earth. The worst thing was that on the whole, Terrans often said one thing and meant something else—a complete juxtaposition to the bluntness Keith was used to. 

Most days were good because there was always time to take a break, or Shiro would show up to make the day seem not as long or hard. But there’d been a few rough days in the beginning, days when Keith felt as if he were a fuel cell entirely depleted of its battery.

That was until he was with Shiro.

Shiro, who for some insane reason seemed to genuinely want to spend as much time as possible with Keith. 

At first, Keith had been afraid that Shiro’s kindness towards him was him simply trying to be a good roommate, or even that maybe he was like that with everyone. Keith was smart though, smart enough to pick up on the way Shiro acted with other people. There were only a few people he initiated contact with the same way he did with Keith—like Matt, the guy who lived across the hallway, and his little sister Pidge who apparently still lived at home but was constantly on campus. Then there were some of the people in his Terrans for Peace club he’d introduced Keith to on the first day of the semester—a nice guy named Hunk, and then Lance, one of the most annoying humans to ever walk the Earth—both of whom Shiro regularly joked with or clapped on the shoulder. 

Shiro was always helpful and kind and polite—Keith was pretty sure that was just something innately Shiro—but it didn’t take long to realize that most people sought out Shiro and not the other way around. In fact, most of the people who turned up at their dormroom to ask Shiro a question or stopped him in the hallways or quad to talk seemed eager to interact with Shiro, to exist in his orbit. Keith couldn’t blame them. Shiro’s energy was luminous—it was no wonder people wanted to be around him. 

Shiro didn’t initiate contact first though—didn’t casually touch them or hug them. He didn’t throw an arm around their shoulder and whisper dorky jokes in their ear or invite them back to the greasy diner across from campus at 1am to study—he only did that with Keith. 

For whatever unbelievable and miraculous reason, Shiro apparently found Keith worthy of a level of closeness and companionship that Keith had yet to witness him display with any other Terran. It was something precious that Keith didn’t take for granted. The only problem was with every Quintant that passed, Keith became more sure that his little crush on Shiro was not disappearing. If anything, it was growing and growing, and Keith didn’t have a clue what to do about it.

****

*******

Keith frowned at the pages in front of him, slamming the book shut and sighing. He’d read the same page no less than three times and still couldn’t retain the information.The subject itself wasn’t so bad—Keith liked art just fine. But the teacher was a bit of a nightmare. He seemed to get off on talking in riddles and making the art seem as complicated and subjective as possible, while also seemingly wanting very specific answers if Keith’s last failed quiz was anything to go by.

There was no room for failure in Keith’s plans to stay on Earth. Especially not over little blobs of paint on a canvas. 

Annoyance building, Keith slammed the book shut and tossed it onto the end of his bed. If Shiro were here he would be able to explain it to Keith in two ticks flat. Shiro was good at explaining things in a way Keith understood. But Shiro wasn’t here, Keith thought sourly. 

He knew it was selfish to be grumpy about Shiro being gone when the reason he was gone was because Tuesdays were his longest day. Shiro woke up before the sun to go for a run, coming back by the room to bring Keith a hot cocoa and muffin before grabbing his backpack and disappearing again for his four seminar classes. Then when those were done, he had a last minute Terrans for Peace meeting and for some reason had skipped dinner to help one of his classmates study. Including the time since he went running, Shiro’d been gone nearly thirteen Varga instead of his usual seven like the last few Tuesdays.

With a heavy sigh, Keith yanked his blanket out from beneath the mattress, wrapping it around his shoulders as he tried not to sulk. He wasn’t cold but the blanket was soft and reminded Keith of Shiro since he’d been the one to find it at Target, insisting Keith might sleep better with it. He did, but probably not for the reasons Shiro assumed.

Shiro, who should’ve been back at least twenty Dobosh ago. It was entirely possible that Shiro had run into a friend or decided to do something else before coming back to their room. Which was fine. Shiro could do whatever he wanted. Keith knew he didn’t have any claims on Shiro’s time. It was just that, well—Keith missed him.

Keith wasn’t used to being around someone so much and still wanting to be around them _more_. 

Outside of classes and the time Shiro spent doing extracurricular and altruistic activities, he and Keith pretty much spent all of their time together and yet still Keith couldn’t imagine ever tiring of being around Shiro. He wasn’t just a good roommate—polite and congenial—he was also a good friend. The best ever. 

He was also stumbling through their door looking like he just survived a solar storm. His bangs were sticking up to one side, there was a coffee stain on his previously bright white t-shirt, and his face said very clearly that he was exhausted. 

“I’m dead,” Shiro groaned, barely making it through the doorway before shrugging his backpack off in the middle of the floor and then following suit—collapsing face first onto the ground and a pile of clean towels neither of them had bothered to fold and put away yet. 

“Why are you on the floor?” Keith asked, peering over the edge of his bed. It was very hard and cold. 

“Because, m’dead,” Shiro repeated, voice garbled.

Keith tried not to smile. He wasn’t sure how Shiro would feel about Keith thinking he was so pathetic it verged into cute territory. 

“You’re the one who volunteered to add on a tutoring session,” Keith reminded him. 

Shiro grunted. “Where’s my sympathy?”

“I’m sorry you’re an overachieving people pleaser who doesn’t know how to say no.”

Shiro lifted his hand and flipped Keith the middle finger—a gesture he’d taught Keith last week. He still didn’t quite understand when it was socially appropriate to use, but at least with Shiro Keith knew it was playful. 

“Well it’s true,” Keith told him, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and scooting his butt towards the edge. 

No response. 

“Did you at least eat today?”

Shiro grunted, turning his head to the side. He looked even more exhausted than Keith had initially thought. “Uh...had a cold brew, two protein bars and a Red Bull. Oh, and an old bag of trail mix I found buried in my backpack.”

Keith wrinkled his nose. For someone who spent a good chunk of his life ensuring that Keith got enough food, he sure seemed to forget to feed himself. 

“That’s not good enough.”

“I was busy,” Shiro sighed, shoving his face back into the towels. 

“You really should lay in your bed. Your arm is gonna hurt if you stay down there,” Keith said, well aware of the physical toll Shiro’s prosthetic took on his body. Not that he said anything about it out loud, but living with someone meant you noticed things. And Keith had noticed right away that Shiro compensated for the prosthetic—it was high tech and breathtakingly beautiful, and also incredibly heavy. 

Shiro grumbled something unintelligible as an answer.

“Can’t understand you,” Keith laughed. 

Shiro rolled his face sideways enough to uncover half his mouth. “I said the bed is too far. If you want me to go to bed then you’ll have to put me there.”

He chuckled, as if the idea was funny. Keith didn’t know why. 

“Okay,” Keith replied, letting his blanket fall onto his bed before hopping down onto the floor.

“Keith no,” Shiro said, turning his head further to look at Keith. “I’m too big. You can’t.”

Keith stood up taller. “I absolutely can.”

“I’m too heavy,” Shiro protested, rolling onto his back and pulling a funny face at Keith. “No one can pick me up.”

Keith snorted. “That sounds like a challenge.”

“You think everything is a challenge,” Shiro said, looking amused. “Seriously, I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“You think I can’t handle you?” Keith asked, hands on his hips as he loomed over Shiro.

“I mean...you’re smaller than me,” Shiro said, clearly choosing his words carefully. He was staring at Keith’s pajamas and grinning. 

Keith looked down at himself and the dinosaur pajamas he was wearing. They definitely made him look like he’d gone through a wormhole and been de-aged, but he’d grown to really like them. Except not right now since they were apparently contributing to Shiro having some silly ideas about Keith being _little_. Keith was not little. He was just smaller than Shiro which was, well—everyone was smaller than Shiro. That didn’t count.

“What are you doing?” Shiro asked, voice pitched high as Keith squatted down and slid one arm under Shiro’s back and the other behind his knees.

“I’m going to put you in bed,” Keith answered, as if it were obvious.

“You—no.”

“Me, yes,” Keith snorted, squaring his shoulders and bracing his feet on the floor. He curled his fingers up, digging them into the flesh of Shiro’s hip and thigh respectively to get a good grip on his body then rose to stand—taking Shiro with him in a deadlift.

“Holy fucking shit,” Shiro stuttered, his mouth falling open. “You...you’re strong.”

Keith flushed, fighting off a smile. It felt good to have surprised him. 

“I could do this all day,” Keith lied. 

Truthfully, Shiro was even heavier than he looked, but Keith wasn’t about to let him know that, so he made sure none of the struggle showed on his face as he crossed the room—relishing the feel of Shiro in his arms. Shiro’s hair tickled his cheek and that close Keith got a good whiff of Shiro’s fancy apricot shampoo and the body wash he kept in their shared shower. Shiro’s shirt reeked of coffee from the coffee shop on campus where he must’ve done his tutoring. If Keith had thought getting a playful nudge or a hug from Shiro was nice it was nothing compared to holding him in his arms. He was solid and warm and smelled so good it made Keith’s throat feel funny.

For his part, Shiro looked lost for words—his cheeks going a bit pink—as he curled his prosthetic around Keith’s neck and ducked his head. Of course all that did was give Keith a perfect view of Shiro’s ears which were also turning pink.

All too soon, Keith was setting Shiro down on top of his bed, shoving his hands into the pocket of his pajama pants just to stop himself from reaching out to touch Shiro again.

“Wow,” Shiro breathed, apparently still a bit lost for words.

“Told you,” Keith said, unsure if the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins was due to having proved himself right or just because he’d had the boy of his dreams in his arms.

“You picked me up,” Shiro mumbled, rubbing his hands over his cheeks which were now a darker shade of pink. It made the scar across the bridge of his nose stand out starkly and somehow made him look even more handsome. 

Keith was learning that Shiro blushed, a lot—something Shiro told him just happened to some Terrans but supposedly didn’t mean anything. Or at least that’s what he’d said when Keith accidentally walked in on him in the shower last week. Shiro had made a sound like a wounded Vangox and his entire body turned redder than Mars as he tried to cover himself with his towel. Either way, Keith liked the way Shiro’s pale skin flushed so often. It made Keith feel warm in unexpected places. 

“I told you I would. I’m stronger than I look.”

Shiro puffed out his cheeks with air, crossing his legs beneath him as he leaned back against the wall. “You’re a lot of things you don’t look, Keith.”

“Is that good?” Keith asked, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Yeah,” Shiro said softly. “Yeah, Keith. It is.”

Keith flushed, inexplicably warm all over again. “You, uh...you need to eat. The cafeteria is open for another twenty Ticks.”

“Too far. I’ll order pizza. You can help me eat it, my treat.”

“I thought you said the pizza place didn’t deliver to the dorm rooms,” Keith said, stomach already grumbling at the idea of pizza. He’d had it twice so far and it was definitely one of his favorite things about Earth. 

“They don’t, but Matt’s working tonight and I helped him haul that massive satellite across the quad last week so he owes me one. If you get my phone from my backpack I’ll call. I’ll even splurge for double meat.”

Keith wasn’t about to turn that down, especially not when all he had to do was retrieve Shiro’s phone. He turned around, dropping to his knees and unzipping the small pocket at the front where Shiro usually kept his phone. Except when he unzipped it, there wasn’t just a phone there. There was a bright pink and red card covered in glitter. Without really thinking about whether it was rude to look, Keith withdrew the card. 

Glitter fell off the card, covering his hands and the floor in shimmering dust as he opened it to find looping script—he’d almost forgotten about Terrans and Valentine’s Day. But this explained the pink hearts he’d seen a few girls taping to their dorm room doors earlier that day. _Be my Valentine_? Immediately Keith’s stomach dropped, surprise and confusion swirling through him followed immediately by something Keith had never felt before—jealousy. 

“What are you—oh,” Shiro said.

Keith couldn’t look at him, too ashamed at his reaction and too scared to find out if this was what he thought. For the second time that night, he had to remind himself that Shiro was free to do whatever he wanted with whoever he wanted. Keith was just his friend. 

Except if that were true, it didn’t explain why Keith’s throat suddenly felt too small and his stomach felt funny.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have looked,” Keith mumbled, shoving the card back into the front pocket and grabbing Shiro’s phone. 

“Hey no, it’s okay, it’s not a big deal,” Shiro said, smiling. 

Keith tried to return the smile but judging by the look on Shiro’s face his own probably resembled more of a grimace. “It’s not Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh no, it’s not but...the card is from a guy in my Intergalactic Communications class. He said he won’t be here the next two weeks and wanted to give it to me early. Usually Valentines are given on Valentine’s Day but, sometimes early too.”

“Oh, well that was nice of him,” Keith said, unsure why he felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach. Or why he had the sudden urge to kick someone he’d never met. 

Keith had all but forgotten about Valentine’s Day and its special meaning on Earth, hadn’t given it a second thought since that first trip to Target with Shiro. This at least explained the giant red bowl of Terran condoms he’d seen on a strangely decorated table outside of the health center last week. 

He felt stupid for not thinking about this possibility earlier. Of course there would be people who wanted Shiro as their Valentine. Who wouldn’t? He was perfect.

“Sure,” Shiro agreed, shrugging his shoulders blissfully unaware of Keith inner turmoil and less-than-kind thoughts about Shiro’s mystery Valentine. “But I’m not interested.” 

Keith’s eyes widened at Shiro’s last words as he experienced his first case of emotional whiplash, his dread swiftly turning to surprise and then elation. 

“Not interested in him or in having a Valentine?” Keith asked, before he could stop himself. 

“Well definitely not in him. He’s not really my type, you know? But,” Shiro paused, shrugging his shoulders noncommittally as the blush across his cheeks that had just begun to recede returning. “If it was the right guy I, uh...I wouldn’t mind. In fact, I’d like it.”

Keith wanted to ask what Shiro’s type was, but the words wouldn’t seem to obey and travel from his brain to the tip of his tongue. Shiro was looking at him in a way that made Keith feel stripped bare—looking at him like no one in the universe ever had. Despite the intensity of his gaze, it felt like too much to ask that Shiro’s type might be Keith, even if the way he was looking at Keith right then made him feel hopeful in a way that was entirely foreign to him.

Hopeful and terrified.

It felt as if they were on the precipice of something, but Keith wasn’t sure what it was, or if he was brave enough to do anything about it. What if he was wrong and Shiro was just being nice? 

“So, uh...pizza,” Keith blurted, shoving Shiro’s cell phone at him and essentially ruining the moment. If it was a moment. Which Keith unfortunately wasn’t sure it was. 

“Right,” Shiro coughed, taking the phone and swiping it open. “Pizza.”

Keith’s ears buzzed as Shiro made the phone call, his mind racing with thoughts. For a wild moment he’d felt sure that Shiro wanted him to say or do something, but Keith wasn’t sure what. Or that he was even correct. Terrans were so confusing sometimes and their courting rituals eluded him. If they were back on Ender’s Colony he’d know exactly what to do and the steps to take to find out if another Galra was interested in him. But he wasn’t on Ender’s and Shiro was no Galra.

Keith sighed, rubbing his sweaty hands on his pajama pants.

Apparently he was going to have to research Terran courting rituals.

****

*******

Researching the courting and mating habits of Terrans turned out to be infinitely more difficult than Keith had initially imagined.

For one thing, he didn’t have his own computer or cell phone that worked on Earth. The ones he’d used on the space station had technically been Kolivan’s, and his scholarship stipend hadn’t included enough money to acquire his own.

Shiro had both, but Keith wasn’t about to ask to borrow his even if he knew with complete certainty that Shiro would’ve let him. What was he supposed to say, _Hey Shiro, can I borrow your Terran internet devices to help me better understand how to court you and if i’m properly reading the signals between us_. Realistically, Keith knew that he could just lie and say he needed one of them for his homework. It would’ve been easy enough, and it wasn’t like it was a bad lie or anything. But both times Keith had tried asking, he’d ended up slamming his mouth shut, unable to stomach the idea of deceiving Shiro. It felt wrong. Especially when both times Shiro just looked at him with those kind eyes and soft smile, whispering _What do you need, Keith?_.

So after two Quintant of suffering through his inability to ask Shiro, he caved and went to the computer lab in between classes. He managed to type out the words _how to know if a human likes you_ when he realized the guy sitting next to him—Lance, the annoyingly cheerful guy from Shiro’s club—who was loudly smacking his gum, had rolled his stupid desk chair closer to Keith and wasn’t even pretending not to stare at Keith’s computer screen. 

If Keith thought there was no privacy on a space station, it was nothing compared to college and nosy Terran students. 

Hoping to startle Lance, Keith turned and bared his fanged teeth at him, but Lance just smirked as if he knew something that Keith didn’t, blowing a bubble with his gum before rolling back in front of his own computer and humming to himself. Thankfully Lance didn’t try to sneak a look at Keith’s computer screen again after that, but Keith had felt exposed and hyper aware of the students around him just the same. Most of them were tapping away at the keyboards and were likely completely uninterested in Keith and his pathetic crisis about trying to court a human. But Keith didn’t know that for sure. It was possible someone knew exactly what he was trying to look up and for some reason that made his skin crawl. Not that he was embarrassed about how he felt about Shiro, not even close. Just, it was no one else’s business what he was doing or who he liked. The only person he wanted to know how he felt was Shiro, and not until he decided how to tell him. 

In the end Keith spent the entirety of his forty-five Tick break between classes staring at the blank computer screen, not looking up a single thing—too worried someone might be reading his computer screen. 

It wasn’t like there was anyone he could just ask either, at least no one he trusted as much as he trusted Shiro, and he couldn’t exactly ask him about this. The problem, Keith was discovering, with realizing you wanted court your new best friend was that you couldn’t ask said best friend for help on how to do it without messing everything up. 

Shiro was special and Keith needed to do this right—needed to prove he was worthy of being Shiro’s Valentine. 

The only option left for Keith was to simply go do some recon on foot—see what he could try to figure out about Terran customs on his own. Initially he thought he should try Target again. Perhaps there would be some clues about how to best court a Terran and express your feelings hidden within all the Valentine’s stuff Shiro said they had for sale there. The only problem was that Target was too far to walk and Keith didn’t understand Terran public transportation enough to try and take the bus across town. 

Which left Keith between an asteroid and a hard place. The only Terran places he knew outside of the Garrison were the ones Shiro had taken him to—Target and In n Out—neither of which were solid options at this point. With less than two Movements until Valentine's Day and no idea how to express his intent to court on Earth—and more than a little fear someone better might come along and request the privilege of being Shiro’s Valentine before him—Keith started to lose hope. 

That is, until Matt turned up on Saturday night after dinner looking to borrow one of Shiro’s old textbooks for a research paper. After he’d gotten the book, he’d stayed for a while talking and laughing with Shiro until Shiro excused himself to use the bathroom and Keith saw an opportunity too good to resist, even if it was dangerous to ask someone who was also friends with Shiro. 

Summoning every ounce of courage he possessed, Keith raised his gaze to Matt and cleared his throat loudly to get Matt’s attention. 

“Hypothetically, where night someone go to buy a Valentine gift for someone special?”

Keith hadn’t meant to turn and look at the door to make sure Shiro wasn’t back yet, but he had—his heart rattling in his chest. Matt’s eyebrows rose into his bangs but he didn't laugh or tease Keith, just smiled. 

“The mall, my dude. Definitely the mall.” 

A Tick later, the door handle rattled and Shiro returned, his nose wrinkling as he looked between Keith and Matt. 

“What did I miss?” Shiro asked

For one terrifying moment Keith’s life flashed before his eyes. He imagined Matt telling Shiro what he’d asked—about it going wrong and losing Shiro’s friendship and the happiness he’d found on Earth. None of that happened. 

“I was telling Keith about Nita—that girl in my astrophysics class I told you about last week. I decided I’m finally going to take the plunge and ask her out.”

Keith exhaled a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding and smiled at Matt, who he was realizing was maybe not just Shiro’s friend, but his own as well. 

To be safe, Keith waited until Tuesday, Shiro’s busiest day of the week—so he wouldn’t have to lie about where he was going if Shiro noticed his absence—and ditched his classes to go to the mall. 

The journey there took less than fifteen Dobosh and the walk was nicer than he would’ve anticipated. It gave Keith a lot of time to think, to clear his jumbled thoughts, and the conclusion he came to was that he was absolutely going to be Shiro’s Valentine. Well, if Shiro would have him. 

He just needed to find the right way to ask Shiro—the right way to do something special like Shiro deserved.

If everything went according to plan, the mall would solve all his problems. He would find something to adequately express how important Shiro was to him.

Or, so he thought. Then Keith stepped inside the mall, and let out a string of Galran curse words. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen. If he’d thought Target was overwhelming—which he definitely had—that was nothing compared to the mall, which was a place that was filled with store after store to buy more things than any one person could possibly need. 

Options, there were so many options, and Keith didn’t have a clue where to start. 

Keith wasn’t sure why he’d thought this might be easy, because it felt entirely overwhelming. He wished there was someone he could ask. He knew that Ulaz or Kolivan would’ve made time for anything Keith needed, but the idea of speaking to the University about arranging an interspace call home to talk about how he didn’t know how to show the boy he liked how special he was wasn’t something Keith was willing to do. That wasn’t the kind of thing he’d ever talked to either one of them about. If his mom were around she would’ve taken the call without even blinking, would’ve known exactly how to help calm Keith’s nerves and had the perfect advice.

Except she wasn’t here. Keith had spent half his life making sure he didn’t need anyone but right then and then he thought he really could’ve used his mom. 

“Think, Kogane,” he muttered to himself, stepping out of the way of the automatic doors and leaning back against the wall.

All around him Terrans moved with purpose as if they knew exactly what they were shopping for and Keith, well, he was frozen to the spot with indecision. There was no room to mess this up. Shiro was too special and too important to Keith. He had to get this right.

Realizing his chest was getting tight, Keith closed his eyes and slowed his breathing the way his mom had taught him as a child when something she used to tell him flashed through his mind— _when you don’t know where to start, start at the beginning_. Keith sniffled, scrubbing a hand over his eyes at the memory of her voice. He hadn’t thought of that in so long. 

_Start at the beginning_ he thought.

Pushing off the wall, he shoved his hands into the front pocket of the hoodie Shiro had pulled off that morning and let him borrow and inhaled slowly. It was way too big on him—the sleeves rolled up to his wrists and the hem hanging long—but it was warmer than anything Keith owned, and it smelled like Shiro, which was the real reason he liked it best. It strengthened his resolve.

This was for Shiro. Keith could do this.

Unfortunately, simply wandering up and down the long, oversized corridors of the mall didn’t immediately make it any easier for Keith to figure out what to buy. A good chunk of the storefronts were decorated in some way for Valentine’s, especially the ones selling shining jewels. But five Ticks in the first jewelry store and one look at the price tags had shown Keith that those things were way outside of his budget. So on he went, in and out of store after store and faced with more choices than he knew what to do with, but nothing seemed just right.

Nothing seemed special.

After an entire Varga of walking and his hands still empty, Keith had all but given up hope on finding anything when he turned the corner and saw a shop tucked away in the corner, a massive sign in the window— _It’s All About Love: Show Your Valentine How Special They Are_.

Keith’s heart jumped into his throat.

Perfect.

That was exactly what he needed to show Shiro how he felt.

****

*******

The following Movement was pure torture for Keith, who spent the entire time oscillating back and forth between thinking the gift he’d chosen was perfect one day or the worst the next, with absolutely no room for it to be anything in between. He was barely able to focus during lecture and getting his homework done was actual torture since his concentration was completely shot. It was a miracle Shiro hadn’t noticed.

Keith had never courted anyone in space—had never even come close to entertaining the idea—but here he was barely two Phoebs into his time on Earth and about to do something he hadn’t been sure he’d ever do. Until Shiro. 

The closer it got to Valentine’s Day, the more nervous Keith became—the meticulously wrapped gift hidden beneath his socks and underwear in the dresser in the closet was constantly in the back of his mind.

Keith was pretty sure the only thing that kept him from completely panicking and changing his mind about the entire thing or simply chucking the gift at Shiro’s head before running away was, well—Shiro. Day by day, Keith became more and more certain that he was someone Keith could see a future with, if he dared to think that far ahead. 

Every time Keith threw his textbook across the room in frustration Shiro was there, picking it up and helping him regroup. _Patience yields focus,_ he’d say, climbing into Keith’s bed and sitting beside him—pressing their sides together from shoulder to hip as he spread the book open on his own lap and helped Keith study.

On the days Keith was too tired to get up early enough to make it to the cafeteria before his first class, he’d find a protein bar and an energy drink shoved in his backpack—clearly put there before Shiro had run out for his own early morning class. 

As if Keith needed anymore proof that Shiro was the best person he’d ever met, the night before Valentine’s Day Keith found himself so sick to his stomach with nerves he was unable to eat. Around midnight when Keith’s stomach began to growl, instead of offering him a protein bar, Shiro disappeared for half a Varga and then returned with something called a Cup-o-Soup and a hot cocoa, and Keith nearly forgot how to breathe. He almost ran to the closet to dig out the gift then and there, but he was so close to doing it the right way tomorrow that he managed to control his impulsive tendencies and wait—the soup filling his stomach with warmth and the cocoa his heart. 

_Tomorrow_ , Keith thought. 

Tomorrow he would ask Shiro to be his Valentine and everything would be perfect. 

****

*******

Things were not perfect.

Valentine’s Day had started just fine. Which was to say it started like any Friday—the promise of two days without classes giving both Keith and Shiro the blissful freedom to sleep in. The difference was, instead of sleeping in, Keith woke up earlier than normal with the sole intention of trying to go to the little donut shop across from campus in the hopes of snagging a few of the chocolate-covered, cream-filled things Shiro loved but which, according to Shiro, usually sold out on weekends before he could drag himself out of bed.

Keith managed to get up a good Varga and a half before he normally would have on a day without classes—spending a few minutes watching Shiro drool on his pillow and trying to figure out how even that was cute—before hurrying outside and across the street to the donut shop just in time to see the sole employee taping up a handwritten _be back in an hour_ sign on the door before she locked it. In desperation he tried banging on the door to get her to let him in, even gave her his most pitiful face—but the girl behind the door shrugged, jabbed her thumb at the sign and then left.

Disappointment settled in the pit of his stomach. He’d only been awake a Varga and things were already going wrong.

He tried to make himself feel better by reminding himself that there was a perfectly good Valentine’s gift ready and waiting in his room for Shiro, but now that he had the idea of getting Shiro donuts too, he couldn’t get it out of his head. Shiro loved donuts. Surely that would make this Valentine’s extra sweet if Keith could surprise Shiro with his favorite ones. Problem was, Keith had no idea where to find the next closest donut place, which meant he was forced to run all the way across campus to use the computer lab to find out.

To his immense surprise, the computer lab wasn’t deserted but scattered with random students doing the most insane thing ever and studying at nine in the morning on a Saturday. Thankfully, there was an empty corner near the door free of nosy classmates or Lance and Keith plopped down into one of the oversized black office chairs, typed in his access code, and began his search. Twenty Ticks later, all he had was a slight headache and the knowledge that there was an absolutely ridiculous amount of donut shops scattered around town, too many to really pick from based on reviews alone. Keith had no idea what anyone meant by yeast versus cake donuts, or how a food establishment got a letter grade like Keith was supposed to get in University. In the end, he’d gotten tired of looking and picked one at random, pleased to discover that it wasn’t far from campus, and though the number of little stars by its name were minimal, the photos looked good enough. Besides, Keith couldn’t imagine one donut tasted much different from another. 

A few Ticks later, Keith was back outside with renewed hope, a pocket full of dollar bills and a firm resolution fueling him on as he jogged to the new donut shop. Thankfully, the second location was in fact open, and Keith even managed to buy the last two cream-filled donuts in the case from a nice older lady with gray hair and glasses who, upon hearing Keith’s shy confession that the donuts weren’t for him but his Valentine, added in so many extra donuts for free the bag barely closed. Leaving with his pocket fuller than he’d expected given his bounty and his arms laden with donuts, he decided that maybe today was a lucky day after all. 

Or at least that’s what he’d thought, until he got back to his dorm room with his white paper bag of donuts clutched between the two steaming cups of coffee he’d grabbed from the coffee shop in the quad on his way back up—black for Keith and so milky for Shiro it barely qualified as coffee—to an empty dorm room. 

Keith stilled, a frown marring his features. The plan was to fill Shiro’s tummy with coffee and donuts and then give him his gift. But Shiro wasn’t in his bed or at his desk. For a second Keith thought maybe he was in the bathroom, except the door was wide open and the light was off which meant it was empty.

Frown deepening, Keith carefully deposited the coffee cups onto the edge of his desk with the bag of donuts before turning around to inspect the room. Shiro’s bed was perfectly made, Black laying in the middle of his pillow. His textbooks were spread out across his open desk from his study session the night before and most noticeable of all, Shiro’s phone was resting on top of his laptop on the edge of the desk.

Shiro didn’t go anywhere without his phone. Well, besides his morning runs. But Friday Shiro’s rest day, and if Keith had learned anything since moving in with Shiro it was that he was a man of routine.

With a sigh, Keith plopped down into his desk chair, resting his elbows on the top and dropping his chin into his hands. This was not going according to plan. Not even a little bit. Granted, Keith had been gone way longer than he’d initially planned and had missed the opportunity to wake Shiro in bed with his surprise, but he’d still expected to find Shiro lounging in his bed in his sweats listening to music or reading, not _gone_.

Several Ticks passed, and Keith was still not closer to guessing where Shiro went. He could back any Tick or, well—not.

He felt silly for worrying, but they’d fallen into a routine with each other so easily that Shiro not being here felt strange.

Keith made up his mind to hold off on donuts and coffee for a few Dobosh just in case Shiro came right back from wherever it was he’d gone, but after less than ten Dobosh Keith’s caffeine deprivation and hunger got the best of him. He eyed the donut bag with a growling stomach and weakening self-control. There were more than enough for both of them, so it wasn’t like Shiro would know if one or two were missing when he finally returned.

Decision made, Keith grabbed the bag and prepared to eat the plain glazed one on the top when a small note caught his attention. Dropping the donut bag he snatched up the note written on one of Shiro’s little star-shaped Post It notes, cheeks splitting into a smile when he recognized Shiro’s tiny but tidy handwriting.

__

_I got bored without you and decided to go for a run. Be back by ten. Meet me in the cafeteria for waffles? Matt told me they’re making them heart shaped today. I’ll share._

_Shiro_

_P.S. Happy first Valentine’s Day_

Pleasure blossomed in Keith’s chest at Shiro’s last sentence. Shiro hadn’t disappeared, he’d gone for a run. And also left Keith a note so he wouldn’t worry.

This was fine. Everything was fine.

****

*******

Everything was not fine. Not even close.

Keith had killed time waiting for ten o’clock to roll around by finishing the last page of his physics assignment, making his bed, corralling his pile of dirty laundry into the little plastic hamper, and then when he’d run out of things to do, carefully depositing Shiro’s Valentine gift on his pillow next to Black so it would be there as a surprise when they got back from breakfast.

Except, Shiro never showed up for breakfast. 

Keith waited by the doors for nearly twenty Dobosh without seeing even a hint of Shiro’s starlit hair. Eventually enough time passed that Keith assumed he was running late and decided to go through the line to make sure between them they got at least one plate of heart-shaped waffles before the line cooks switched to the lunch menu, adding extra strawberries and mounds of whipped cream on top with the sole intention of giving Shiro his food. 

Shiro never came.

Keith sat at the end of a small table near the door, watching every single student that came in and out as he poked at the corner of one of the waffles—his own appetite dwarfed by thoughts of Shiro and where he might be. He sat there long enough that the waffles went soggy and the whipped cream started melted into a pile of unappetizing goo, but still Shiro didn’t turn up.

It was hard for Keith to quantify the feelings settling in his chest as he dumped the uneaten plate of food in the trash and trudged back to his dorm room. Disappointment was there—souring his stomach and making his throat feel funny. So far nothing today had gone right. More than that though was the worry slowly growing.

Sometimes it felt like he’d known Shiro his entire life, other times it left him breathless to realize how much he didn’t know. But if there was one thing Keith was more certain of than anything in the universe, it was that Shiro would never break his word. Ever.

That worry only expanded tenfold when he returned to their dorm room and saw everything exactly the same as he’d left it, but still not Shiro.

Keith paced back and forth between their beds for several Dobosh before heading out of his own room to barge into Matt’s, but Matt hadn’t seen him since the day before. Keith returned to his room without a clue where Shiro was or why he was late.

Mood crashing fast, Keith did the only thing he could—nothing.

The more time that passed, the more worried Keith got. By the time the clock struck one in the afternoon, Keith’s maybe-possibly-I’m-worried mood had transformed into something bordering very close to fear. 

Even if a professor or another student had needed some of Shiro’s time, there was no way he would’ve stayed gone this long. Especially not knowing Keith was waiting for him.

He’d all but made up his mind to simply run all over the entire campus looking for Shiro when the dorm room swung open, with the person Keith most wanted to see standing before him.

“Shiro there you—” but Keith’s words died on his lips at the sight of Shiro standing in the doorway covered in dirt and blood.

The panic Keith had been fighting off exploded like a solar flare as a protective urge he’d never experienced nearly crushed his lungs. 

Shiro. Shiro was hurt.

“Hey,” Shiro said, grimacing as he hobbled through the doorway. “I’m so sorry I missed breakfast.”

“You—who cares about breakfast,” Keith grunted, jumping off the bed and hurrying to stand in front of Shiro. He pushed the hair off his forehead, wincing in sympathy at what he saw. There was a nasty gash across Shiro’s forehead closed with stitches, and a line of blood matted in his thick eyebrow and caked down the side of his jaw. His pristine white running shirt had blood on the collar along with smudges of dirt, and there was a large rip near his left shoulder where Keith could see the hint of a purple bruise on his pale skin. “Are you okay?”

It was a stupid question. He very obviously was not okay.

“I’m fine, Keith,” Shiro said, voice quiet. “Just a little surface scratch.”

Keith snorted. Apparently they had different ideas of fine.

“That is not a scratch,” he countered, pushing Shiro’s hair back further to get a better look at the gash.

“Head wounds bleed a lot. It looks worse than it is,” Shiro uttered, eyes fluttering shut as Keith traced a fingertip across the curve of Shiro’s forehead beneath the gash. 

Well, Shiro was right about one thing—it looked bad.

“Should you be at the health center? Or a, uh...one of those Terran hospitals.”

Shiro frowned. “Just left the health center. M’fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” Keith repeated, itching to do _something_. He felt entirely helpless staring at a hurt Shiro. He’d never seen someone he cared about the way he cared about Shiro hurt, and he didn’t like the way it felt. 

“Keith, I’m okay,” Shiro whispered, a hand on his shoulder. “I’m just sorry I stood you up.”

The idea of Shiro’s biggest worry being leaving Keith alone in the cafeteria when he was covered in blood, and his head was being held together with, well, Keith didn’t even know with what, was ridiculous. 

Keith told him as much, earning him a half laugh from Shiro.

“S’not ridiculous,” Shiro said. “You’re important. I wouldn’t ever...I wouldn’t—”

“I know,” Keith said, unable to cope with the expression that was taking shape on Shiro’s face. As if he had anything to feel guilty about. 

Keith didn’t need to know what happened to know that it wasn’t Shiro’s fault—that Shiro would never do that to him.

“You have a lot of faith in me.”

“I have just the right amount,” Keith said, dropping his hand to his side when he realized that at some point he’d switched from checking Shiro’s wound to cupping the side of his face.

Shiro smiled, but it was tight.

“Does it hurt?” Keith asked, unable to stop himself from reaching out to touch Shiro’s face again. It was almost a compulsion at that point—a burning need to viscerally prove to himself Shiro was alright. 

Shiro shrugged, which was about as good a yes as he was likely to give. “The shot they gave me to numb the area hurt, can’t feel it much right now, but it’s still tender. And everywhere else is—“ he paused, weighing his words. “Just a tiny bit sore.”

If the expression on Shiro’s face and the way he’d been limping was any indication, it was likely more than a tiny bit, but Keith didn’t call him on the lie. He understood all too well the need to maintain one's pride. Keith had done that too many times to count with Kolivan or Ulaz before he’d learned to patch himself up so no one else would find out what kind of scrapes he kept getting himself into.

“So, what happened?” Keith asked, skimming his fingers down Shiro’s check to check for another wound. There was just so much dried blood. 

“I, uh….I fell,” Shiro answered evasively. 

“You fell,” Keith echoed, unsure how Shiro could end up with an injury like this just running on the track like he usually did. 

“Yes,” Shiro affirmed, not volunteering anything else. 

Keith had the feeling there was more to the story, but at that moment the only thing he cared about was taking care of Shiro. Details could wait. 

Since Keith had first landed on Earth, he’d spent so much of his time feeling off-kilter and out of his element, but this—patching up wounds—this was something Keith was good at. He could do this. He could take care of Shiro. 

He’d lost count of the number of times he’d had to tend to a bruised rib or knuckles, or a wound that was maybe too deep and which probably would have benefited from seeing a Healer. The only thing Keith was more prone to than getting into fights was stubbornness. Eventually, Ulaz and Kolivan trained him in hand-to-hand combat and basic first aid. _We can’t stop you from getting into trouble but we can help you out if it_ Ulaz had once told him while tending to a nasty black eye and a split lip. 

“Come with me,” Keith told him, holding his hand out without even thinking about it. 

By the time he realized what he’d done, it was too late to pull it back. The gut punch of uncertainty dissipated the second Shiro took his hand. His fingers were practically frozen, his knuckles scraped up and dusted in dirt. Keith never wanted to let go. 

Shiro gave Keith’s hand a gentle squeeze, as if Keith was the one who needed reassuring. Maybe he did. Hand in hand, they slowly walked to the bathroom, Keith only releasing Shiro so that he could pat the counter top. It was the only decent place for him to sit since the toilet was behind a separate door from the sink.

“Need me to pick you up again?” Keith teased when Shiro hesitated. 

Shiro’s cheeks went pick and he shook his head, hopping up onto the counter and letting out a little whistle of pain through his pursed lips. Keith resisted the urge to ask if he was okay again, already knowing the answer. Words of empathy weren’t going to fix Shiro’s body, but Keith’s hands might be able to.

Shiro was noticeably silent as Keith moved around the tiny bathroom, but it was a companionable silence. Keith could feel Shiro’s intense gaze on him as he found an empty red plastic cup under the sink and filled it with soap and warm water before dunking in a clean washcloth.

“What are you doing?” Shiro asked softly, eyes tracking the movement of Keith’s hand as he wrung out the cloth. Then, Keith lifted it and dragged it down the curve of Shiro’s jaw—wiping away the dirt and blood caked on his face. 

“Taking care of you.”

“Oh,” Shiro breathed. “Okay.”

When he was sure that Shiro wasn’t going to protest, Keith moved his body even closer—settling himself between the spread of Shiro’s thighs as he repeated the action over and over, periodically pausing to clean the washcloth in the sink. All the while Shiro stayed quiet, something unspoken in his eyes as he watched Keith meticulously clean the side of his face and his neck. He knew the forehead would be the most delicate so he saved it for last, tackling the least painful areas first. 

Once Keith was satisfied the blood was sufficiently cleaned, he discarded the washcloth and dragged the pads of his fingertips across the sharp line of Shiro’s jaw and down the side of his neck, pausing to let the tips of his fingers rest over the pulse point. Keith didn’t know much about Terran biology. Though he looked Terran on the outside, the Healers had often remarked that physiologically Keith was Galra through and through on the inside, which meant Keith wasn’t entirely sure how fast a Terran’s pulse was supposed to be, but Shiro’s seemed impossibly fast.

“Can you take this off?” Keith asked, tugging at the hem of Shiro’s shirt. 

Keith was pretty sure there was no more blood under there, but he wanted to see for himself. Shiro’s heart rate was still elevated and the voice rattling inside of Keith’s chest to take care of Shiro wasn’t satisfied. He needed to check everywhere for himself.

Shiro nodded his head slowly, reaching back to grab the shirt just behind his neck and yanking it off in one swift go. He let out a groan of discomfort as he dropped his hands into his lap. There was no blood, but there was a pretty vicious bruise over his left shoulder—a ring of dark purple around the edge that spread out in a large blob beneath his collar bone. 

Something funny twisted in Keith’s chest. “ _Shiro._ ”

“Nothing's broken,” he said, as if reading the worry on Keith’s face. “They did a preliminary holo scan and there was no brain damage or broken bones so—” he shrugged and tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace and did little to reassure Keith. 

“It looks like it hurts,” Keith said, grazing two fingers over the purpled flesh. 

Shiro sucked in a breath, clearly uncomfortable. It was all the answer Keith needed. 

“Stay here,” he instructed.

Without waiting for a response, Keith disappeared back into their room and dropped to his knees to dig out his rucksak from where it’d been shoved beneath his bed not long after he’d gotten there—his most prized possessions hidden inside. He turned it upside down, dumping the contents on the floor and rummaging around until he found the small bag made of Drox hide Kolivan had made him take, carrying it back with him to the bathroom where Shiro was seated just as he’d left him, shirtless and waiting. 

“What’s that?” Shiro asked, eyes drawn to the small bag in Keith’s left hand. 

“Supplies. Terrans mask pain with pills and shots—the Galra, we heal.” 

If Shiro had more questions he kept them to himself, leaning close to Keith as Keith undid the drawstring and carefully pulled out several little glass vials—oils and tonics for all sorts of illnesses and injuries. They weren’t what he needed. What he needed was the salve which he found at the very bottom of the bag. 

“What’s that for?” Shiro asked as Keith unscrewed the cap and dipped two fingers into the thick shimmering salve. 

“It’s for inflammation and bruising mostly. It’s a combination of herbs and flowers grown in one of the greenhouses on Ender’s. It’s got some relaxant properties too, which might help with any lingering discomfort from whatever you did to get yourself hurt.”

“Ah, yeah,” Shiro coughed. “That’s a bit of a long story.”

“I have time,” Keith said, smoothing the salve over Shiro’s bruise. Shiro stilled, exhaling a shuddering breath as Keith worked the salve into his bruised skin in small, methodical circles. “But you don’t have to tell me.”

Shiro sighed softly not saying a word. Several long Ticks passed, and Keith began to think that Shiro wasn’t going to tell him what happened. 

“It’s stupid,” Shiro said. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.” 

“What’d you do, run into a wall on the side of the track?” Keith joked, trying to get Shiro to smile. 

“Probably would’ve hurt less,” Shiro answered wryly. “I, uh...I wasn’t running on the track today. I was using Matt’s lab way on the other side of town and tried to take a shortcut through the woods.” 

“Wait, I asked Matt where you were and he said he didn’t know,” Keith frowned, working in another glob of salve. “The liar.”

“Ah, yeah, that would also be my fault,” Shiro said. “I kind of made him promise not to tell you no matter what.”

“I don’t understand.”

Shiro closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, clearly thinking about something. Keith was quiet, watching the rise and fall of Shiro’s chest. When he opened his eyes, there was an expression Keith couldn’t read in them. 

“So, uh...you know that it’s Valentine’s Day.” He twiddled his hands in his lap looking nervous. 

Keith nodded, unsure where Shiro was going with this. 

“I know that the Galra don’t do Valentine’s Day so maybe it seems silly to put so much stock in one day, but...I always told myself that if I had someone special that I’d make Valentine’s Day special for them.”

Keith’s heart began to sink. Shiro liked someone. 

“Oh,” he said, voice cracking.

“I just wanted to do something different. Regular flowers or chocolates aren’t good enough—“

“He sounds special,” Keith offered, interrupting Shiro before he said anymore. He wanted Shiro to be happy no matter what, but he wasn’t sure he could listen to him wax poetic about someone else. 

“He is,” Shiro agreed. “And also apparently a little oblivious.”

A hand in his cheek made Keith jump as he lifted his gaze from Shiro’s knee to his face. “Wait, what?”

“I’m talking about you, Keith.”

Keith’s brain short circuited. The special person Shiro was talking about was _him_? 

“Me?”

Shiro huffed out a laugh, cupping the side of Keith’s face in the palm of his hand. “Of course you. I, uh...well, I managed to get Matt to let me use his 3-D printing lab to make you something, and I was gonna give it to you over waffles but the printer got jammed and it took so long to get it done that I was running late, so I thought I’d cut through the woods to get to the cafeteria, but I’m not used to running on uneven terrain and I lost my footing and must’ve slipped on a tree root and before I knew it I was crashing to the ground. I slammed my head into a rock and took a bit of a tumble into a ravine and then spent the next two hours in the health clinic.”

“You got hurt because of me,” Keith said. 

“I got hurt because I’m an idiot who used the wrong trail. Also, I think you’re missing the point here.” He knocked his knee against Keith’s hip playfully. 

“What’s that?” Keith asked. 

“That I like you,” Shiro answered, stroking his thumb over Keith’s cheek. 

Keith forgot how to breathe. In all his estimations of how today might go, Shiro confessing his feelings for Keith first hadn’t even been on his radar. 

“You’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met, and...and I wasn’t supposed to do this in the crappy dorm bathroom while looking gross but—“ he paused, dropping his hand from Keith’s face and reaching back to pull something out of his pocket. 

When he held out his hand towards Keith there was something clutched between his metal fingers—something Keith didn’t think he’d ever see on Earth. 

“Is this what I think it is?” Keith breathed, already knowing the answer. 

His hand shook as he took the tiny flower from Shiro’s hand and cradled it in the open palm of his hand, marveling at the tiny bloom.

It was pretty smashed—the delicate violet petals lying flat instead of full—and it lacked the luminescent glow Keith knew it to have in space, but it was still remarkable in its beauty. It was a piece of Keith’s home—a piece of his culture that he never expected to be given, especially not on Earth from someone who wasn’t Galra. 

“A Vhirnoht bloom,” Shiro said. “It got pretty wrecked in the fall. I’m so sorry, Keith. You deserve better.”

“It’s perfect,” Keith whispered, unsure what to do with the vast sense of affection swirling inside of him—both from Shiro and for him.

All Galra knew the significance of the Vihrnoht in bloom. It was one of their most treasured crops and one of the few inedible things the Galra had managed to find a way to grow on Ender’s in one of the bio labs after the destruction of their home planet. The flower represented life and prosperity, and to present it to someone else was the most precious gift one Galra could give another. 

Unexpectedly, Keith’s mother’s voice filled his brain as he cupped the crushed flower in his hand as if it were made of Luxite. _One day my little one, someone else will see the beauty of your heart—will see you as their equal in every way—and present you with the Vhirnoht. They will choose you as someone precious, Keith. And you, you will have to decide if they are precious too._

“If it’s perfect why are you crying?” Shiro asked, looking worried. 

“I’m not,” Keith lied, scrubbing the back of his hand over his eyes. 

“Shit, it’s not the wrong flower is? I’ve been researching Galran customs the last few weeks but there’s not as much information as you’d think and—“

Keith clutched the flower tighter, throwing his arms around Shiro and pressing his face into his neck. “It’s right.”

“Oh, oh good,” Shiro answered, wrapping his arms around Keith. 

Keith couldn't be sure, but he thought he felt Shiro's lips pressed to the top of his head and it made him burrow his face in deeper. 

Since his mom’s ship had disappeared, he’d spent so much time trying to make Ender’s feel like home and when that failed he’d convinced himself Earth would be the thing he’d missing for so long.

He knew now it wasn’t a place he’d been looking for, but a person.

Shiro’s arms were strong as they pulled Keith in closer and his body was so warm. Pressed together this closely, Keith could feel the steady thud of Shiro’s heartbeat and it soothed the Galran part of Keith itching to build a fortress around them so Shiro never got hurt again. His mom used to tell stories of Galra and how protective they got when they’d found someone worthy of being their mate. He’d been too young to understand and had laughed, unable to believe he could feel like that about anyone else. She’d told him one day he would understand, and boy did he understand now.

Shiro was in his arms, and Keith never wanted to let him go.

Keith wrapped his arms around Shiro, careful to hug him gently. 

“You smell good,” Shiro murmured, rubbing his cheek against the top of Keith’s head. “I’ve wanted to hold you like this for so long.”

Keith wanted to tell Shiro the same—that he’d felt a pull towards Shiro since the day he met him too—but the words died on the tip of his tongue when he realized they were still in the poky dorm bathroom with Shiro sitting on top of the cold, hard bathroom counter. There was no way Shiro was comfortable like that.

An idea started to form, and Keith carefully laid the flower on the counter so as not to damage it further before lowering his hands down to Shiro’s ass, then wiggling them between the counter and Shiro’s pert behind to get a good grip.

“I like where this is going,” Shiro laughed, eyes crinkling in the corners.

Keith snorted out an echoing laugh, then without warning lifted Shiro off the counter and began to walk backwards, careful not to knock Shiro’s knees against the narrow door frame. Shiro’s little noise of surprise was adorable, and pleasure flooded Keith as Shiro wrapped his legs around Keith’s waist.

“Hold on,” Keith told him as he spun them around, even though Shiro already was.

“I’m not letting go,” Shiro laughed, pulling back to stare at Keith.

It was strange to be the focus of someone’s undivided attention, even stranger that he _liked_ it. 

The walk from the bathroom to Shiro’s bed was too short for Keith’s liking. Despite the burn in his arms from Shiro’s weight, Keith was reluctant to let him out of his hold. He liked the way it felt to have Shiro’s body snug against his own, to know that he could take care of him. 

Carefully, Keith set him down on the edge of the bed, moving back to give Shiro space to kick off his shoes before he scooted back, resting his back against the wall and stretching out his long legs.

“Aren’t you gonna join me?” Shiro asked, eyes wide as his bottom lip began to protrude.

“You’re hurt. You need rest.”

“I want a cuddle,” He said, sticking the bottom lip out further.

“Oh, that’s...alright,” Keith mumbled, climbing onto Shiro’s bed fully prepared to lay Shiro back on the pillow and cuddle him the best he’d ever been cuddled, when his eyes caught sight of his gift for Shiro laying there. In all the upset, he’d completely forgotten about it.

“What’s...oh. Is this for me?” Shiro asked.

“Yes,” Keith answered, scooting closer on his knees and leaning over Shiro to pick up the box. He set it on Shiro’s lap before sitting back on his heels.

“You got me a Valentine’s gift,” Shiro said, running his hands over the frilly ribbon the shopkeeper had wrapped it with. There was something in his eyes, a bit of surprise and pleasure, that made Keith’s face flush.

“You’re special,” Keith said, suddenly stumbling over his words. “You should know you’re special.”

He’d had an entire speech memorized about telling Shiro how important he was to Keith and how much he respected him as a man and valued his friendship and how deeply Keith wished to know him more intimately. Except none of that would come out now. Keith’s brain seemed to have stopped working.

Everything he thought of saying seemed inadequate to explain how much he’d grown to care for Shiro.

“Can I open it?” Shiro asked, obviously excited.

Keith nodded then realized Shiro was looking at the present not at him. “Yes.”

With painstaking slowness, Shiro undid the bow and pried the elaborate strips of ribbon off the box. Then, he slid his finger beneath the thick red paper and dragged it sideways to pop off the tape holding it shut, careful not to rip anything.

Keith had never seen someone open a gift before. Galrans didn’t do presents the way Terrans did, but he had to imagine that Shiro did it better than anyone in the entire universe. 

Once he’d removed the paper Shiro folded it up, setting it off to the side. He paused, looking up at Keith and smiling before dropping his gaze back to the box in his lap and prying off the top. Inside the box were mounds of pink tissue paper.

“What is it?” Shiro asked, pulling off the top layer and then smiling when there was another layer beneath it hiding the surprise.

“It’s something to show you how special you are,” Keith answered, thinking back to the sign in the store window. “I was, uh….well I wanted to ask you to be my Valentine.”

Shiro looked up, a tuft of white hair falling into his eyes as he smiled at Keith. There was a bruise starting to form on his cheek and there was still a bit of dirt in his hair, and he was the most beautiful thing Keith had ever seen. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Keith echoed.

“You didn’t have to buy me something to do that. I would’ve been yours no matter what.” 

Shiro paused, hand hovering over the last piece of tissue paper, giving Keith a private smile before peeling back the last layer. Keith held his breath watching as Shiro uncovered the gift.

He waited for Shiro to say something. _Anything_.

Instead, Shiro was silent. Worry started to creep into Keith’s mind. Had he gotten it wrong? The store had been crowded with other Terrans—mostly men—all looking as confused as Keith had felt as he’d picked it out. He’d thought that meant he was on the right track. Now he was doubting his choice.

“Say something,” Keith urged, unsure what to make of the way Shiro’s entire face was going red and the flush of pink spreading across his broad chest.

“You...it’s...oh my god.”

Keith blinked. That didn’t seem like the right reaction.

“Matt told me to go to the mall,” Keith blurted out, beginning to panic. “And I didn’t know what was a typical gift to show desire to court on Earth and then I saw a sign outside the store that said _show your Valentine how special they are_ and….and I got it wrong didn’t I?”

Shiro opened and shut his mouth a few times, apparently lost for words as the blush on his cheeks deepened.

“It’s...it’s lingerie,” he choked out, lifting up a tiny pink bralette trimmed in black lace and then the matching pair of shorts. Beneath it was a matching pink silk robe, but Shiro left that in the box just blinking at the garments in his hands. They looked even more dainty clasped in Shiro’s big hands.

Standing in the lingerie store Keith hadn’t been sure what to make of the tables covered in silk and lace. There was nothing like it in space and he’d never thought about seeing someone else wearing it. And though the posters in the store had all been of Terran women wearing the revealing garments, the store had been so full of men that Keith had assumed it was typical for any Terran to wear them.

The more he’d looked—fingers ghosting over the erotic materials—the more his heart had raced at the idea of Shiro’s broad shoulders, tiny waist and massive thighs in something like that. The juxtaposition of his strength in something so delicate had made Keith’s heart race and he’d barely been able to think clear enough to pay, consumed by thoughts of Shiro wearing it for him.

But, Shiro didn’t look excited. He looked shocked.

“Um...yes,” Keith said, still not sure what to make of Shiro’s reaction. “I thought...the signs all said, well—I thought Terrans just liked pretty things. You don’t like it.”

Shiro swallowed, looking nervous. “It’s just...it’s usually….usually women wear it,” he said quietly. “I mean men can. Anyone can, but its—”

“Oh, fuck,” Keith said, borrowing a word from Shiro’s repertoire. “Oh no. This isn’t happening.”

Keith wanted to crawl into a black hole and disappear from the universe. How had he managed to get it so wrong? 

“Keith,” Shiro tried, but Keith’s ears were ringing. 

This entire day had been a journey of emotional whiplash and this was just too much for him to handle. 

Shiro had apparently gone and spent weeks researching Keith’s culture to give him the most intimate and meaningful Valentine’s gift possible, and Keith had gone and ruined everything. Shiro’s fingers reached out to touch the side of Keith’s face and the panic at the idea of messing things up with Shiro so soon overwhelmed him. Keith did the only thing he felt capable of doing and threw himself down face first into Shiro’s pillow.

“Keith,” Shiro tried again, pulling his legs out from beneath Keith’s body.

Keith grunted, shoving his face into the pillow. Maybe if he suffocated himself he wouldn't have to deal with the repercussions of his failed gift. 

The bed shifted and Keith could feel Shiro slowly stretching himself out against the wall beside Keith before cool metal fingers stroked through his hair.

“I really wish my Valentine would come out of hiding so I could say thank you.”

Keith grunted again. Shiro was too nice.

“I’d also really, really like to kiss him,” Shiro added, fingers dragging down the back of Keith’s neck.

That got Keith’s attention. The idea of kissing Shiro was apparently enough to break through the haze of embarrassment trying to drown him. He shoved his face to the side, revealing just enough of his face that he could breath and peek at Shiro.

“Ah, there he is,” Shiro teased, brushing the hair back out of Keith’s eyes.

“You still wanna kiss me?” Keith asked. “Even though I gave you the worst gift ever.”

“Keith,” Shiro uttered, his face just a breath away from Keith’s on the pillow. “You could’ve given me a rock and I would want to kiss you. I like you. So much. Probably more than I’ve ever liked anyone ever.”

“I like you too,” Keith whispered, rolling onto his side and scooting closer so that his legs were intertwined with Shiro’s.

“So, can I have a kiss?” Shiro asked, as if Keith might say no.

“Shiro you can have anything,” Keith huffed.

“Careful what you say. I might take you up on that when it doesn’t hurt to move,” Shiro laughed, grimacing a little.

“Good. I’ll hold you to that,” Keith told him, angling his head up to press a kiss over the gash on Shiro’s forehead.

Shiro let out the softest sigh, body going lax as he threw his left arm over Keith’s side. Keith’s eyes fluttered shut as he shifted his body down, tilting his face towards Shiro’s as Shiro moved forward. The first brush of lips was tentative, almost shy and sent a flutter of pleasure down Keith’s spine.

Kissing Shiro was so nice.

“You can kiss me harder,” Shiro murmured against his lips, trailing his fingers up the line of Keith’s spine and slipping his fingers into Keith’s hair.

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” Keith answered, letting his lips glide against Shiro’s in the lightest of touches—barely a kiss at all.

“You won't,” Shiro told him. “I trust you.”

“Shiro—”

“Kiss me like you mean it,” Shiro urged. “Please.”

Keith was helpless to resist, surging forward and pressing his lips to Shiro’s with all the longing he’d been keeping locked inside. 

He was careful not to press against Shiro’s shoulder as he deepened the kiss, running his hand along the curve of Shiro’s bare hip and swallowing down the little gasp of pleasure Shiro emitted as Keith kissed him. Shiro’s lips were so soft and warm, and Keith had never tasted anything better than the sound of desire falling from Shiro’s lips as Keith sucked his bottom lip into his mouth.

Shiro was as eager as Keith, but twice as responsive and where Keith would normally be a little shy, he felt nothing but confidence at the unrestrained way Shiro responded to his touch. 

“Keith,” Shiro breathed, pulling out of the kiss and nuzzling his nose against Keith’s.

“What?” Keith asked, dragging his fingers along Shiro’s side and delighting in the little shiver it earned him.

“Nothing,” Shiro said, eyes opening slowly to look at Keith. “I just like saying your name. Keith. Keith. _Keith._ ”

Pleasure flooded Keith. 

“Oh.”

“Hi, Keith,” Shiro said, nudging Keith’s cheek with his own and laughing softly. He looked so ridiculously pleased just saying Keith’s name. 

“Hi, Shiro,” Keith echoed, liking the way it felt to say hisname just as much. 

He had such a pretty name—a pretty everything really. 

“Guess what?” 

“What?” Keith asked, his cheeks nearly splitting in two from the breadth of his smile.

“I like you.”

A laugh rumbled out of Keith’s chest, soft and fond. Shiro was so sweet it made his heart feel like it might fly right out of his chest and straight into the sun. 

“I guess it's a good thing you like me so much then, even in spite of me giving you the worst gift ever.”

“Oh, uh...about that—” Shiro pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and worried it between his teeth for several Ticks before letting it go. “I, uh...I was just surprised is all. I uh...I don't dislike it.”

Keith blinked. “Wait, but you said it was for—”

“I know,” Shiro interrupted, gaze dropping to Keith’s mouth. “I’m not really the type, you know. If there is a type. People assume they know what I like because of what I look like and I get it. I’m kind of a big guy and, well, with the arm and...I just...it’s not something I ever—shit, I’m not saying this right.”

Shiro licked his lips, suddenly looking unsure. Keith thought he understood. 

“I like that you’re big. So big,” he said, giving Shiro’s massive bicep a playful squeeze and earning him a bashful smile from Shiro. 

“I like everything about you. And I think you’d look incredible in that. If you, uh...if you ever wanted to wear it. Just for you. Or—” he paused, voice going quieter as he summoned up all of his courage to finish his thought, “or if you wanted to wear it for me too. You’d be beautiful.”

“Yeah?” Shiro asked, eyes brightening as he looked at Keith like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’d really like that?”

“I’d be honored,” Keith said, immediately feeling silly. It was the truth, but maybe it was too much. 

“God, I like you so fucking much,” Shiro exhaled, kissing Keith again and leaving him breathless. 

Compared to the last one it was just a quick kiss, but it was perfect just the same—like everything else about Shiro.

“Maybe when you’re all healed up you could wear it for me,” Keith said, feeling braver as he ran his fingers through Shiro’s bangs and pushed them off his face. 

“Anything. Anything for you, Keith.”

Keith thought back to Shiro’s earlier words to him and smiled. “Careful or I might just hold you to that.”

Shiro’s answering grin was everything. Like the first rays of genuine sunlight Keith had felt back when he’d first come to Earth, everything about Shiro’s presence radiated warmth. His happiness was contagious and Keith basked in his glow. 

For the first time in a very long time Keith felt at peace. 

This, he thought as he curled an arm around Shiro and pulled him closer, was happiness.

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream about Sheith with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/goldentruth813)


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